Nothing To Fear
by Hayden Avery
Summary: Fear can make good people do bad things, as the saying goes. The wizarding community was half heartedly grateful to the boy-who-lived. Thankful Voldemort was gone but suspicious of Harry himself, they never fully embraced him and when he became a Slytherin, many began to outright persecute him. But Harry finds a friend in a red headed girl as lonely as him.
1. At Least A Chance

Title—Nothing to Fear

Story summary—Fear can make good people do bad things, as the saying goes. The wizarding community was half heartedly grateful to the boy-who-lived. Thankful Voldemort was gone but suspicious of Harry himself, they never fully embraced him and when he became a Slytherin, many began to outright persecute him. But he finds a friend in a red headed girl as lonely as him, who is excluded from her family and eventually is too ostracized because of an evil she could not control.

Pairing—Harry/Ginny

This is an extremely AU world where in the Potter family was more like the Black family, and Lily was in Slytherin, the other details will be filled in by the story.

**Prologue—All Across Britain **

Emily Kent, called Emmy by those close to her, sat staring out at the fireworks beyond her window on a cold night in early November. She had a pot of tea on for the company she was expecting. She constantly drew her cover tightly over her to shield her body from the frosty room.

She heard the sound of her wards being entered, and knew however that it must only be Doris, for the wards were entered—not breached. She watched from the window as her friend strolled up the path to the wooden door that was the only entrance into the little cottage.

The door burst open and with absolutely no pre-amble at all, a mousy little witch with light brown hair to complete the look began, "Have you heard—"

"Yes Doris we've all heard," Emmy responded somewhat flatly, almost bordering on exasperatedly.

"No need to be sharp now," the mousy haired witch said with furrowed eyebrows to her blonde companion who did look somewhat sheepish at her earlier tone.

Pouring them both cups of tea the blonde witch beckoned her friend over to the table where they both sat in the kitchen, staring out of the window every now and then at a particularly brilliant firework. Their breaths between their sips of tea misting in the cold air. Emmy once again pulled her cover closer to her body but her cold was more from her memories than the night air.

"Do you think it's true?" Emmy asked now genuinely after they had been sitting for a moment in silence except for the slurping of their sips of tea.

"It must be, it's everywhere, all _everyone_ is talking about—The Malfoys, they've already fled to the ministry! They're claiming they were bewitched! As _if_..."

"Yes, well did you really expect Lucius to go to Azkaban?" Emmy asked somewhat condescendingly again.

The brunette shot her a glare but went on with what she was saying, "_He_ must be gone, but the question I have is more about the particulars..." Doris trailed off with raised eyebrows.

"Oh _please_ tell me you don't believe that wild tale about the Potter boy!"

Emmy exclaimed, waving her hands in the air as if to animate the ridiculous nature of the story.

"_Dumbledore himself; _Albus Dumbledore—"

"Yes, I'm well aware of who Albus is." Emmy interjected dryly.

Doris gave her a scathing look at her interruption and went on, "Well he has said that it is true!"

"Oh well if Dumbledore said it then it must be true." Emmy said in a cynical tone.

"Now Emmy, just because you were a Raven—"

However Emmy interrupted her friend again, "So did the angels descend from the heavens and allow Albus to walk on their backs as he made his way to tell you all this?" she asked.

The brunette gave her a very nasty look again, "Learn some respect, he did lead us in this war, and look we have—"

"Don't you _dare _say we have won! Won! Won? How have we won? Almost everyone is dead, my entire family—" Emmy broke off with tears in her eyes as her voice became choked and lost much of it's steel on the word 'family.'

Taking a deep breath she went on with closed eyes, "We did not win Doris. We were picked off like roaches under a shoe, and if what you are saying is true then the only hope for us was in a little one year old boy, not the _great_ Albus Dumbledore." she finished with disdain.

"And furthermore that poor little boy, where ever he is was also failed by Albus seeing as his parents are dead now, orphaned under that—that—_headmaster's _protection!" she said headmaster like a dirty word.

"Oh don't blame their deaths on him, I doubt he was even involved in their protection anyway. They were probably—" Doris started off quite intensely.

"Don't. Don't even say it!"

Doris rolled her eyes and continued, "Emmy look at the evidence, the Potter family was all dark! Not a one of them anywhere but Slytherin—"

"Except James Potter, the man in question, who if memory serves me correctly was a Gryffindor." Emmy said sardonically.

"Yes but look who he married!" Doris pointed out.

"A _muggleborn_ witch? Because that certainly follows Death eater criteria, marrying muggleborns." Emmy said sarcastically, eyebrows raised.

"Exactly, a muggleborn in _Slytherin!" _Doris said.

"Being Slytherin doesn't make you evil Dory." Emmy said reproachingly to her old friend.

Doris however ignored her, "There's only two reasons to be in Slytherin—your family is there, or you are involved in dark magic! And seeing how she was a muggleborn, well she certainly wasn't going there because it was her family's house..."

"Yes, because at eleven years old, and from a muggleborn family so never having practiced magic at all, let alone dark magic—Evans was sorted into Slytherin because of her evil, dark powers." Emmy said sarcastically again.

"The hat saw her potential for it," Doris said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.

Emmy sighed, "Why don't you just accept your theory is ridiculous. The Potters were not death eaters!"

"Charlus and—"

"Potter hated his parents Doris! He rebelled against them with Black at every turn, the two of them were the black sheep of their respective families! I highly doubt he threw away ten years of rebellion to become a deatheater after he married the _muggleborn _girl he had been pining after our entire school careers!"

"The _Slytherin _muggleborn!"

"I'm pretty sure his parents still would have hated her on the principle of their blood supremacy, being in Slytherin would not have been enough to counteract that!" Emmy argued.

"Whatever," Doris said sourly.

"Now you just sound like a teen ager," Emmy said with a slight smile on her face.

"I'm just saying that if they _really_ weren't aligned with _You-Know-Who..._" Doris whispered the name.

Emmy rolled her eyes, "If you aren't going to say his name at least don't whisper the substitution," she said.

Doris glared again but went on, "If they weren't dark, then why weren't they part of the Order?"

"The world isn't split between Order members and death eaters Doris." Emmy said as if speaking to a child.

Doris opened her mouth to speak but Emmy went on, "I don't really blame them, you might hold Albus up on a pedestal but some people see him for what he really is; just a man."

Doris opened her mouth again to hotly retort but Emmy held up her hand to stay any comments, "Look Doris, I'm not saying he doesn't _mean _well necessarily—"

"Then what are you saying?" Doris interrupted rather frostily.

Gathering her knit tighter around her Emmy went on, "I'm just saying that..." she began delicately and Doris raised an eyebrow in waiting.

"I'm just—He doesn't...doesn't always put everyone's best interest at heart. War is a chess game, and people, many people, are just pawns to him. I can't say I blame the Potters for not joining the order, they were so young and just starting a family too..."

"Exactly! If they were really on the right side you think they would have wanted to fight for—"

"You don't have to be a member of the Order to oppose Vol—Vol—Voldemort Doris." Emmy said irritatedly, stumbling over the name and ignoring Doris's protesting look.

"And really I can't blame them for not wanting to, Dumbledore would have certainly used Evan's Slytherin background to try to make her a spy or something even though she really, with her marriage and blood status would not have been right for it. Albus has never hesitated to place others in possibly entirely dangerous and compromising situations."

Doris rolled her eyes, "He would not have! He would not have sent her into danger like that when as a spy she really would have been ridiculously at risk, _if _she was on our side. I still think Lily Potter was a death eater anyway so it wouldn't have mattered. They do take muggleborns if they're devoted enough you know."

Emmy looked at her from over her cup of tea, "Really, how would you know? I for one do not recall any muggleborn death eaters...well—ever." She said tapping her chin in mock thought.

Doris looked flustered, "I'm just saying that you cannot pin them not joining as concern for her, I mean if she was on our side Dumbledore wouldn't have sent her to a position where she would have inevitably been harmed or asked to choose like that, if she wouldn't have been fine."

"Oh really? You don't think he would have...Susan Prewett ring any bells?" Emmy asked.

"Prewett was a pureblood." Doris said condescendingly.

"Not to mention that it is almost certain she was actually playing the double agent act on us, everyone thinks she really was death eater. She'll probably be sent to Azkaban now, there's no way she shouldn't at least have a trial, and a trial should prove—"

"For heavens sake, if you are going to condemn people for being related to dark families can't you at least give them the benefit of the doubt for being connected to light ones?" Emmy asked exasperatedly.

"The Prewetts might be a light family Emmy but she was the _only one _of them to _ever _be in Slytherin!" Doris exclaimed.

"Once again Doris, Slytherin does not equate death eater."

"Well when she goes to trial you'll see—" Doris started but was interrupted rather sharply.

"Really following the innocent until proven guilty are we Doris?" Emmy asked.

Doris looked scandalized, "Well, the evidence—"

"You don't have any evidence, just rumors."

Doris took on a thoughtful expression, "Well the rumors all say that she was really Prewett Black."

Emmy rolled her eyes, "All the more reason to suspect she was on our side."

Doris however looked a little too gleeful now at the chance to trump Emmy's argument, "Oh but haven't you heard! They arrested Black two nights ago, the night..._it _all happened. He killed thirteen muggles, turns out he was supporting He-who-must-not-be-named after all." She finished rather mockingly gravely.

"But—I...I knew him in school, not well, but..." Emmy said genuinely shocked.

"So you see," Doris went on oblivious to Emmy's sadness, "It is rather likely that little Prewett girl was a death eater, she and Black must have been in it together. Traitors all along..."

"Oh shut up Doris, you don't even know if they were together." Emmy said tiredly.

Looking a little hurt at her friends words Doris decided to keep going, "Which just proves more to my point that the Potters were probably on _his _side! Just look at the evidence, their closest friends both turn out to be death eaters, and not to mention Lupin the _werewolf_! How poor little Peter Pettigrew got mixed in with such a bad bunch makes me shudder!"

"They held him down and forced him to be friends with them in all their evil death eater glory..." Emmy muttered sarcastically.

"What was that?" Doris asked coming back from her rant.

"Nothing," Emmy waved her hand dismissively.

"Anyway, I'm just saying, look at the facts. The Potters were probably on his side, they wouldn't join the order for that reason! Not because of anything Dumbledore would do to their family."

"Once again, not joining the Order doesn't make you evil! Sometimes I wish I hadn't joined, maybe then..." Emmy trailed off, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

Doris gave her friend a sympathetic look which Emmy did not notice as she stared out of the window out into the moonlit sky.

After a long silence Emmy asked, "What do you think will happen to him now?"

"Who?" Doris asked from behind her tea cup, thankful the tense atmosphere was dispersed somewhat from the previous topic.

"The little boy, the one who vanquished him." Emmy asked still in a very soft tone of voice.

"I don't know." Doris said somewhat troubled. "I heard rumors though that they sent him to live with some muggle relatives."

Emmy nodded, "I suppose thats probably for the best, being with family. And its probably good he stays away from the wizarding world for a little while, until everything settles down. He can be introduced into it when it's time for him to go to school."

Doris looked uncomfortable and Emmy finally facing back towards her as she tore her gaze away from the view of the night sky the window offered, gave her a questioning look.

At her friends prompting Doris began to speak, "I don't know if he is coming back to the wizarding world." She said.

"What do you mean?" Emmy asked, placing her tea cup on the table.

"Well...many have been saying that...think about it Emmy, a little baby able to do what no other grown wizard could? And from a dark family too? The whole reason You-Know-Who even went after him is because he must have known that Potter would be his rival one day. _Another Dark Lord!"_

Emmy looked over at her friend with a blank expression before almost shouting, "Doris that is ridiculous!"

Dories however once again ignored her, "In fact I think the best thing that could happen would be if they never told him about all this. Let him live like a muggle." She said worriedly, glancing out of the window as if in fear that the almost toddler was going to descend upon them.

"You are already branding him as evil and he can't even properly talk yet! Now you want to deny him his birthright because of some ridiculous fear you have?" Emmy's voice grew in pitch as she became more upset.

"It's for the good of everyone Emmy! Do you want another Dark Lord on our hands, you would think you of all people would understand after what happened to Michael!" She saw the other woman flinch at the name.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Emmy, I didn't mean to...bring it up like that!" She said tearfully.

Taking a deep sigh and closing her eyes Emmy began, "No matter what happened to me, I just can't see keeping a boy from his rightful world simply because of something he had no control over. You should be _grateful _to him! Grateful for getting rid of Vol—Vol—dammit! Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort—VOLDEMORT! I'm never going to stumble over that murder's name again!" She shouted as Doris looked around fearfully, her eyes bulging from her head as the hand she held her tea cup in shook slightly.

"You should be thankful that he got rid of that bastard and instead you all want to take away his chance at a world he belongs in?" She asked amazed after she regained her composure enough to continue.

"I just think it would be the cautious thing to do, Wilard said he wanted to see the boy die but I thought that that was a bit extreme..."

"A bit! A BIT!"

"Emmy stop shouting," Doris said quickly.

"You are sitting here telling me about your...conspiracy to murder a little boy, a baby—"

Doris flinched, "When you say it like that..."

"When I say it like what! Like how it is?" Emmy asked incensed.

Doris took a deep breath, "Look, I didn't agree with that anyway. Very few people did, but a lot of people think it would be for the best for the boy to stay away from our community, with power like that and with that..._background..."_

"The Potters were _not _Death eaters for the last time Doris!" Emmy said hotly.

Doris just shrugged.

Taking a deep breath Emmy went on, "This is just...ridiculous! My vocabulary can't even come up with another word to describe it! All of you being terrified of a little boy who you should be thankful to, and yet instead you all want to ruin his life..."

Emmy took another deep breath, "Let's just forget this conversation, although Doris do promise me one thing."

Doris looked over at her expectantly.

"Don't just follow Albus around blindly," She said imploringly.

"Well the war is over anyways." Doris said noncommittally waving her hand.

A long silence followed and as she watched one more firework explode brilliantly in the night, a bright green that made memories of the killing curse flash before her eyes, Emmy added one more thing to the conversation.

"Yes I suppose it is." She muttered, remembering Michael, Jude and Kate.

Conversations very similar happened all across Britain, the one fact Doris Webber was correct on was that she was not alone on her views of Harry Potter and his parents. In fact many had much more radical views on the child. There were whispers all across the wizarding world branding little Harry Potter as the next dark lord, and mothers with children the same age shuddering, hoping he would not be brought to Hogwarts as they feared for their own children, convinced the Potter boy would brainwash them as the next generation of his own death eaters. Dumbledore was held as a hero of the war while the boy-who-lived was seen as a suspect rather than a savior. People all judged Harry Potter, though he couldn't even properly speak yet.

**Chapter One—At least a Chance**

Harry Potter, scrawny, unhealthily pale, and rather bruised from his uncle, bent over the garden he was currently weeding in the sweltering summer heat despite his extremely high fever.

Ignoring his sickness he worked diligently, knowing that if he wanted dinner tonight then this better be done.

His aunt's shrill voice could be heard floating through the window screen as she praised Dudley for his acceptance into Smeltings despite the fact that and Vernon had had to quietly bribe the admissions office after his dismal grades in primary school combined with his record of nasty tendencies towards bullying.

Harry would be attending Stone Wall high the public school in the area, and despite how his aunt and uncle tried to mock him on the sorriness of the education there even being more then he deserved, he himself felt relieved and saw a slim chance at finally making friends now that the populace would have Dudley's influence removed.

Dudley had bullied and scared anyone who had ever attempted to show Harry any kindness, and had convinced most of the children at school to not just ignore Harry but to treat him much the way Dudley did.

Maybe they would finally stop tripping him, discreetly elbowing him, ruining his class work before he could turn it in, lying to the teacher about him and telling him how his parent's had died just to get rid of him.

Harry knew he was either hated or felt indifference toward, and it made him incredibly lonely in a way few boys so young had ever been.

The bruises and whelps from Uncle Vernon's belt and fists stiffened his back terribly, which was made worse from his hunched position as he weeded with an almost obsessive pace trying to finish in hope that his Aunt would then allow him to retreat to his cupboard afterwords where he could find some solace in the dark space that was just his own.

Finishing weeding, he picked up the scraps and took them to the trash bin after brushing the gushing sweat from his forehead.

"Did you finish weeding," the screeching tone worsened his already tremendous head ache.

"Yes Aunt Petunia," he replied listlessly in a monotone, blank of any kind of defiance.

Giving him an appraising look as if to judge his honesty, which was ridiculous as Harry always did his work, she then made a half hearted gesture toward the stove where some cold scraps waited from their late lunch.

"It's already four so don't be joining us for dinner tonight! That's quite enough food," and with that last proclamation she swept out of the room to go watch one of her soap operas she so often was engrossed in.

"Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry said quietly, looking very defeated he shuffled over to the stove where he piled all the food he could, which was not much, onto a plate and after quickly eating as much as his stomach could bare, which was not even the entire meagre amount, he hastily gulped down some water as he knew if he was going to recover from his sickness he would have to stay hydrated.

He climbed into his little cupboard and shut the door behind him, and then lying down on his little cot he just enjoyed the dark quietness of the place. He could hear Petunia's television show blaring through the door but the noise wasn't too bad, and to him the cupboard always seemed quiet, it was his sanctuary after all.

He fell asleep at only four that day, exhausted from battling his virus and the work load.

However he was promptly woken up by Uncle Vernon's bellowing at eight to come clear the table and do the dishes as he did every night.

Lying in his cupboard later the night he made the same wish he often did, even though he could not see the stars he pictured them as best he could in his mind, hoping and praying for someone, or even something to come take him away from this place.

...

"Boy get the mail!" Vernon barked at Harry, who was still rather weak from his illness even weeks later, although was beginning to show the slow sign of recovery.

Nodding mutely from his position of scrubbing the floor Harry rose and made his way to the door.

Despite his usual wariness of it today he did not notice Dudley's foot protruding from the the table in his usual stunt of trying to trip his cousin.

He went sprawling across the floor, his glasses flying across the room as he tripped spectacularly with more momentum then he usually did as he had been scurrying out of the room to avoid getting hit by Vernon for dilly-dallying.

Vernon chuckled at the sight of him scrambling to get up before going back to his paper.

Despite the stinging pain in his knee Harry got up quickly and after a moment of panic was able to locate his glasses which were trapped under his cousin's foot.

Sending Dudley a pleading look he knew was futile, Harry was only rewarded with more laughter and the snapping sound as Dudley stepped down on the old lenses, destroying Harry's only chance at sight.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Potter. Well look at the bright side, at least you won't be able to see you ugly mug in the mirror now!" Dudley drawled, Harry vaguely wondered where his cousin had gotten that jibe from since he wasn't clever enough to have come up with it himself even though it wasn't all that inventive.

Harry examining the feel of his now snapped glasses sat there in a miserable conclusion, how could he possibly do his chores correctly if he couldn't see?

His vision was terrible, and some chores required vision to get right. And not getting chores right meant beating from his uncle.

Last time he had burned the morning bacon he had been beaten until he was unconscious, he would not only not see but he would not survive without the shabby outdated lenses.

Dudley was still laughing over his stunt, Petunia, who if Harry had been able to see her as more than a blurry smear of colors, he would have seen a very distasteful expression. Has it was he was able to imagine this seeing as it was her typical face when she gazed upon her nephew.

"Well it was your own clumsiness, don't expect any replacements until school starts either. Be grateful we are generous enough to pay out of our very own pockets for it then!" She said.

Vernon grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and flung him towards the entrance hall.

"Now go get the mail Boy!"

Harry continued morosely down the now blurry hallway without his sight.

"Yes Uncle Vernon," he said with that same defeated, submissive tone he always addressed his guardians with.

Fumbling around on the floor near the door Harry picked up the letters and brought them back into the sitting room, handing the stack to huge, indefinite shape that was his uncle.

Flipping through the mail with his usual responses, apparently Marge was ill, which Harry thought a little bit vindictively she deserved, Vernon kept commenting until he reached one letter which stilled his motions and made him grip his coffee cup hard enough to crack it.

"Dudley go to your room," he said suddenly.

Even Harry looked up in shock from where he was scrubbing the floor, not that he could see much without his glasses anyway, they _never _sent Dudley to his room.

"What?" Dudley was apparently much the same mind as Harry about the situation.

"Go to your room son." Vernon said again. Petunia was looking between the two in question until she looked closer at the thick parchment in Vernon's hand looking very much like something from a much older era. When she laid her eyes on it the color drained out of her face and she supported her husband in the demand Dudley leave the room despite the rather large tantrum he was throwing.

"OUT! NOW DUDLEY." Vernon finally bellowed, and if they never sent Dudley to his room they certainly _never ever _yelled at him. That was generally reserved for Harry.

Finally acquiescing with a stomp worthy of a fitful toddler, Dudley stormed out of the room.

As if remembering Harry was there for the first time, Vernon then turned to him.

"_Out."_ He practically growled, and unlike his cousin Harry was quick to dash out of the room. However when he closed the door behind him, he curiously stayed to listen at the door hole. Something he was thankful Dudley seemed to not have thought of in his tantrum.

Petunia's ear splitting voice was the first to break the silence, "I thought we had finally beat it out of him!"

"Petunia darling don't blame yourself. We have tried, it is not your—"

And for the first time ever, which today seemed to be a lot of those, Petunia interrupted Vernon.

"I know it's my _bitch _sister's fault, and her bloody freakishness!" Petunia spat, the first time Harry had heard her swear.

And despite the fact that Petunia, Vernon and even Harry himself had thought the defiance long ago beat out of him, at her words an anger in defense of the mother he had never known boiled in his blood.

"I know, I know dear," Vernon said placatingly, sounding a bit frightened of his wife.

"We'll just ignore it, those..._things _will give up if no one ever replies!" She said.

"But Dumblywhat-is said that—"

"I KNOW WHAT—I know what he said, I know what he said...just ignore them. It's for the best," she finished. And with that she rose from the table and strode out the room, leaving Harry a split second to scurry behind a chair in the sitting room before he was spotted.

As his Aunt continued up the stairs he ran inside his cup board, ready to pretend he had been there all along.

Which was fortunate as his Uncle was soon there, yanking him out of the closet by his hair and unexplainably beating him quite badly much to the amusement of Dudley who had been released from his room.

Covered in his own blood, and bruises marring his skin almost at every inch, Harry crawled into his cot that night and lie on his back trying to inhale the stuffy air which was quite painful.

As he thought he realized several things.

Petunia hated her sister, his mother, and there was no chance of her ever even treating him with so much as neutrality.

If he stayed here much longer there was a chance he would be beaten to death.

And someone, somewhere was trying to contact him, but he would never find out staying here. Granted he didn't know how he would find out leaving.

But praying there would be a response Harry decided to wait three days and leave on the morning of the fourth, taking whatever mail he could find with him until he could find a way to read it.

He was disappointed to find that his glasses not only had broken frames but shattered lenses, there was no hope of the usual tape repair he generally treated them with.

The next three days were brutal. Vernon and Petunia were both more vicious then ever, his workload was terrible and he was a slower worker due to his lack of eyesight which he was punished for when he blundered as a result of it.

Finally, beaten and bloodied, Harry rose as quietly as his stiff sore body would allow him to, and taking a small grocery bag of the few clothes he had, which was only the set on his back and one extra pair of socks, a shirt, and a pair of loose pants, Harry set off. He brought his tooth brush along too although he had no idea where he would have access to facilities that would allow him to make use of it and he stole a few things from the fridge.

At the doorway he grabbed all the mail and carefully placed it in the grocery bag, his limited sight making reading impossible.

Opening the door Harry had butterflies in his stomach, he considered turning back before deciding that for better or worse, this was his way out. At least out in the world he would have a chance, here he had no one and no hope. And with that thought he took his first step beyond the threshold into the cool morning air of a still darkened outdoors.


	2. Mr Hardin's Foreign Car

**Chapter Two—Mr. Hardin's Foreign Car **

"Hand me that wrench boy..." Mr. Elwin asked Harry.

After getting as far away from Little Whinging as possible, Harry had found himself begging on the streets.

That was where Mr. Elwin had found him.

Mr. Elwin was a mechanic, he was a fair man although not what one would call warm and fuzzy. However taking sympathy on the near emaciated boy he had found in an alleyway, he had told him he would give him board and food, and a pair of glasses, for the summer, although the glasses were permanent.

Mr. Elwin was now in his sixties and had become a mechanic after many years in the armed services. His graying blonde hair was generally covered in engine grease these days but his sharp blue eyes were always shining out of his wrinkled, sun tanned face bearing his broad nose and short beard.

He had not regretted the decision to take Harry in, as the boy was proving to be a good helper, very diligent and eager to please, perhaps almost too eager to please.

Harry had been with Mr. Elwin two months now.

He wasn't sure what to do when summer ended, one thing he was sure about was that he needed to go school, but he didn't know that Mr. Elwin would be willing to house him when he would spend the hours he was suppose to be helping in a classroom instead.

He dreaded the passing of each day as they were unbearably close to the fall now where he would be forced to move on and find something else. And he had no idea what else he would do.

However for the moment he often simply just appreciated the three square solid meals a day, no beatings of any kind, and twenty four hour access to a water closet which after being found he had taken a very long shower and tooth brushing session in.

Harry had yet to look at the letters since he had gotten his glasses, he was afraid he would find nothing addressed to himself as the odds were. That thought terrified him as his greatest hope was contacting some long lost relative or friend of his parents, a hope he was holding onto desperately and did not want to kill with the realization that there was no letter there for him.

Handing Mr. Elwin the tools he needed, they finished with that particular project quickly and Harry diligently cleaned the shop while Mr. Elwin went inside to start dinner.

As Harry sat quietly at the table that night eating his fish and chips, Mr. Elwin turned towards him, "I've got a family affair near Devon I'm going to attend. But while I'm there I'll be doing a little work since the blasted thing will probably be a couple weeks, I'm guessing you're coming boy?"

Harry still flinched at the term boy for what it reminded him of, but he was quick to nod to Mr. Elwin who while gruff in his mannerisms had never been cruel or unfair to Harry.

"Good. I can use some help. Well, clean up the dishes and then you're free for the night," the man said rising to return to his own bedroom.

In all the time Harry had stayed with him had had only ever made brief, strictly necessary conversation, but that suited Harry just fine as Harry himself had nothing to say. After years of ridicule his confidence in the value of his words was shattered anyhow and Harry was quite content just to sit silently.

After cleaning the dishes and carefully stacking them back in cupboard, Harry made his way to his own modest room, that compared to his previous residence at his relatives, it was still a luxury beyond belief seeing as he could actually stand up in it.

Pulling out the stack of letters under his pillow Harry did as he often did and simply stared at them for a long time, not shuffling through to find out what was under Marge's postcard.

_I have to know, I don't have that much time left, I need to find out. _

Finally steeling himself to do what he should have done when he received his glasses, Harry sorted through the pile.

His heart stopped when he came across the letter addressed to one Mr. H Potter, Cupboard Under the Stairs.

...

Harry heaved yet another heavy trunk filled with tools into the trailer, with the help of Mr. Elwin of course.

They had been packing quite a bit to go for their stay south where Mr. Elwin's sister was having some kind of family affair of which Mr. Elwin never did tell the details of to Harry.

"Alright boy, you can go in now if you want. We're quitting early today, it's a drive tomorrow and I'm not so young as I used to be." Mr. Elwin said to Harry as he wiped the sweat and grime from his brow.

Harry nodded morosely, his spirits had plummeted since he had found the so called letter he had been desperately hoping was a connection to his dead parents to be nothing more then a practical joke.

Bitter tears still pooled in his eyes at the thought of it but he refused to let them fall, the letter which he suspected was a joke by some of the other children from school lay crumpled in his waste bin where he had angrily threw it after seeing the contents.

Probably thought they would convince freak Potter he was a wizard, Harry thought angrily about his former classmates, he would have suspected Dudley was in on it but his cousin was not such an actor to put up the performance he had when the mail had come. No matter though, there were other children cruel enough and who disliked him enough to send such a prank.

Making his way to his little room where Harry had packed his possessions in a small bag Mr. Elwin had bought him. Mr. Elwin had also been kind enough to buy him two actually fitting shirts, and a pair of trousers as well as several pairs of socks and pants.

Lying back on his little bed Harry stared at the ceiling once again wondering what he would possibly do in the two weeks he had until September first, when summer would really be over.

The drive north was rather quiet, Mr. Elwin wasn't one for idle conversation and Harry, as usual, never said much after having been discouraged to speak for ten years.

They arrived soon enough.

...

They had been working from out of Mr. Elwin's sister, Wilma's house, for two days. They first did the routine work on the family cars before some people from town, whom Wilma had told about her brother, came to haver their autos serviced as well.

They all adored the polite but painfully shy boy who was his assistant. Especially Wilma who was considering adopting him if she could not convince her brother to, unbeknownst to Harry.

It was on the third day that a man came in on behalf of his employer with an expensive foreign car that had smoke issuing almost everywhere. His employer, who lived in the one mansion in the small town, had a maid who had heard from Wilma about her London brother's make-shift mechanic shop he had created in her front yard. So he had sent his own personal aide, a rather mysterious fellow himself down to the little pastel blue house where the garage was playing host to many broken automobiles.

Mr. Elwin greeted him in the yard.

"Remus is it?" He asked with a firm handshake.

"Yes sir, my employer, Mr. Hardin sent me here with this...well I'm afraid I'm not much of a car man—I don't know what it is..." Remus responded lightly. Harry who was listening from under the hood of another car as he worked thought this Remus sounded like a nice sort from the tone of his voice.

Mr. Elwin, although Harry could not see it, nodded shortly looking at the shiny black menace.

"Mm," was all he said.

"Can you fix it?" Remus finally asked after a long pause.

"I can fix it, but it'll cost you. Can this Mr..."

"Hardin." Remus supplied.

"—Mr. Hardin pay?" Elwin asked.

"Yes, yes of course. Quite wealthy actually, and if you get this thing working again I know he will more than happy to compensate you."

Mr. Elwin nodded, "Alright then. If he's got the pocket book, I'll see what we can do..."

They stood there again for a moment admiring all the smoke issuing from the car, which was quite a lot.

Finally Mr. Elwin broke the silence, "Harry bring me the red tool box will you?"

Harry slid out from under the other car and quickly scrambled to get the item, still not having relaxed enough from a decade of Vernon's presence to ever do anything leisurely.

When he turned to face the man, Remus, he was proved correct in his earlier assumption that he would be an unassuming man with a pleasant face. While tired and with a certain world weary appearance, he was certainly kind looking with his sandy blonde hair and crinkles around his eyes which suggested that, at least at some point in his life, he had smiled quite a bit.

Remus on the other hand, after taking in Harry's face was shocked. He dropped the notebook he had been holding in his hand.

Quickly snatching it from the drive he looked back up at the boy, "Harry Potter?" He asked, urgently, as if the answer would change the world. "Harry James Potter?"

Somewhat timidly Harry replied after a moments delay, despite his caution there was a little bit of excitement brewing in him.

"Yes?" The man looked at him intensely, closing scrutinizing his face.

Harry began to fidget uncomfortably under the man's stare before the mann, Remus, turned to Mr. Elwin.

"Can I take your assistant somewhere, just for a little while." Seeing Mr. Elwin's questioning look he hastened to continue.

"It is important, please sir. I must talk to him. I knew his parents and I haven't seen him since he was a baby, if you like we can simply go to the back yard—but I must speak with him." He pleaded.

Harry shocked by the turn of events decided that even if Mr. Elwin said no he would follow this man somehow, he needed answers. That thought made him feel guilty though, he would rather not have to disobey Mr. Elwin after everything he had done for him but he needed to know what this man would tell him.

However he was saved from having to worry about it as Mr. Elwin nodded affirmatively after having surveyed Remus appraisingly for a long moment.

"Why don't you two just go to the back yard, you'll have some privacy there, but...Harry if you need anything just shout, alright?" He waited for Harry to nod back to him. Harry was deeply touched by the protective gesture, no one had ever that he remembered even cared a little bit. Mr. Elwin in his own gruff way had been the closest anyone had ever come to really caring about him.

Mr. Elwin turned away then and began working on the car.

Harry gestured to Remus and ignoring Wilma's curious glances, the pair strolled to the back yard where conveniently there were two chairs placed under a nice, large tree, where maybe, just maybe, Harry might be able to find some answers.

There was a long silence where both of them simply sat under the shade offered by the tree wondering what to say.

Finally it was Remus who spoke, "Harry are you happy here? Do they treat you well?"

Harry nodded, Mr. Elwin had always been fair to him.

Remus nodded back seemingly at a loss for words before he finally spoke again, "Harry, what—what exactly have you been told about your parents?"

Harry looked at the ground for a second before speaking, "Um, that they died in a car crash, and my Mum's name was Lily and that my Aunt must not have liked her much."

Remus waited for him to go on before he realized that was it.

He sighed, "I hoped so much Harry that Petunia would have outgrown all of that, that after Lily's...death—" his voice broke a little on the word.

Taking a deep breath he continued, "Your father's name was James Andrew Potter, he—he was one of my best friends. He was a great man...he and your mother were...they were both great people." Harry listened eagerly, hanging on Remus's every word.

There was another silence before Remus spoke up, changing the topic. "Everyone's looking for you y'know." He said lightly.

Harry bristled, "If you mean the Dursleys then you can forget it. I am not going back." He said, speaking much more forcefully than his usual timid nature allowed.

Lupin looked at him for a moment, "I would never send you back there. I didn't want it to happen in the first place...I mean the wizarding world Harry."

Harry looked at him incredulously, "The wizarding world?"

Lupin looked shocked and then irritated, "I take it she never told you about that either?" He said caustically, mumbling some curse words under his breath.

Harry raised an eyebrow, still awaiting an explanation.

"Hmm...seems I have a lot of explaining to do."

**A short chapter, but the next one is extremely long. I only plan to spend another three chapters on Harry's first year, I don't want to skip it entirely as there are some important AU elements that need to be introduced, but at the same time I don't want it to drag on as this is an HG story and you can't have HG without the 'G.'**

**Please Review**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter**


	3. Diagon Alley

**Chapter Three—Diagon Alley**

"Why am I in disguise again?" Harry asked Remus, the man who in two short days he had come to like more than any person he had ever met, even if he did think this whole 'wizarding world' affair was some kind of joke. Remus had said his father had been a prankster, maybe Remus was trying to take up the mantle or something now.

"Harry I told you—you're well known in the wizarding world, I just don't want to deal with that yet. And I don't think you do either. I haven't even written Albus yet..." Remus replied a little worriedly.

Harry nodded, his light brown, and neat for once hair seemed a little too strange for him as the fringe of it was dropping down into his now brown eyes.

They had been forced to put muggle make up on the scar, magic didn't seem to cooperate with it.

Harry gave Remus a slightly odd look as they stopped in front of the shabby looking pub. This couldn't be the entrance to the magical world could it? Harry had been thinking of something a little more...grand, or _magical_ for such a fairy tale like Remus had told him.

But apparently, whatever errant thoughts Harry had had, this was indeed the entrance to Diagon Alley as Remus began to make his way in.

The bar was dirty, but Harry didn't really mind. If anything after living with Petunia he had a preference for dirty things after her hyper hygienic tendencies.

"Tom," Remus nodded to the barman in acknowledgement. Not many people looked up when Remus entered, and the ones that did hardly bothered with a greeting except the old bartender.

Remus reached to put a hand on Harry's shoulder to guide him through the room, but he flinched violently after years of habit. Remus looked somewhat taken aback by the response, and watched as Harry avoided his eyes, continuing on, clearly not wanting to acknowledge his reaction.

They walked through the back until they came to the brick wall outside.

Reaching for his wand, Remus tapped some of the bricks as Harry watched on curiously.

Just when he had been about to ask Remus if this really was his idea of an elaborate prank, the bricks began to move and behind it Harry could see a bustling market place filled with oddly dressed people.

A rare smile appeared on Harry's face when the bricks began to shift to reveal the alley.

"Wow." He said, a little awestruck by the magnificent view before them.

"Yeah," Remus said softly, smiling down at James's son.

It was an amazing sight, one of the best things about the wizarding world. A sight that didn't hint at all the underlying corruption that ran rampant throughout their community.

There were colorful signs and wildly dressed people all about the alley. Lining the sides were bright shops, selling a variety of things that seemed to be out of Harry's wildest imagination.

He was amazed. A feeling of belonging and happiness he had never felt before expanded in him at finally seeing the first glimpse of his real world, his parent's world.

"Alright Harry, let's go to Gringotts, we'll need some money from your vault."

Harry nodded and they made their way through the crowded streets into the tall, large marble building waiting at the end for them.

Gringotts, in all it's splendor, put any muggle building to shame that Harry had ever seen.

However the ugly creatures that Remus had forewarned him about, were a little less splendid.

They looked at Remus nastily, "Here to withdraw from your vault, Mr. Lupin?" One of them asked as they approached the assistance desks, a smirk of some sort written across his ugly face.

Lupin grimaced slightly, frowning as he replied politely, "Not myself today, no. My charge here on the on the other hand—" He gestured Harry to step up.

"Would appreciate your confidentially, and with his blood would like to enter." Lupin continued.

"Doesn't possess his key?" The goblin asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Not today." Lupin said, still in his usual light voice although there was an underlying tension.

"Very well," the goblin gestured Harry forward while he reached for something from his desk. Lupin gave him an encouraging look as he timidly moved his hand forward. The goblin quickly pricked his finger with little warning, startling the eleven year old slightly.

The drop of blood hit onto the parchment that the Goblin had just retrieved from his drawer, settling and being absorbed into it until the parchment was clean again.

There was a moment when the three of them were simply staring at a blank piece of paper before, rising out of the parchment, ink began to gracefully spread to form the name _Harry James Potter_.

The goblin glanced up at Harry, something akin to interest in his face now. Lupin gave the goblin a short nod, "Can we enter the trust fund vault now please?"

"Of course," The goblin turned behind him, gesturing for another one to come to him.

"Griphook, escort these two to vault number six hundred and eighty seven." The goblin said shortly to one of his co-workers.

Griphook, if he was surprised, didn't show it. "Very well, come this way."

Lupin and Harry followed him to one of the nearby carts, a vast dark tunnel in front of them which seemed to stretch on endlessly.

Lupin didn't seem to enjoy the fast cart ride very much, for Harry though it was like the roller coasters that his Aunt had never allowed him to ride the couple of times they had had no choice but to bring him to the amusement park when they took Dudley.

The damp air stung his eyes as they whipped around, but he still found the ride fascinating as they rolled beneath London.

"Here we are, vault six hundred and eighty seven," the goblin said stepping out of the cart and unlocking the large, metal doors that were set into the stone of the underground, torches surrounding them.

Through the doors sat gallons piled high, gleaming in stacks of gold surrounded by the silver and bronze of sickles and knuts.

Harry stood back, a peculiar feeling at seeing something that was his. He had never really owned anything in his life and now he had this entire vault that seemed to hold a modest fortune—he wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"Coming in Harry?" Remus asked him.

Shaking away his thoughts and nodding Harry stepped into the vault.

"This is your trust fund vault, you also have your parent's vault and the Potter vault, but you can't access either of those until you are seventeen." Remus told him.

"You mean there's more?" Harry asked, shocked.

Remus laughed, "Your father came from a very old line of pure-bloods Harry. One of the oldest families in magical Britain. I'll take you out to the manor sometime soon, once we get everything settled for school...It's been abandoned for some time now." Remus added sadly.

Harry took a moment to process that before Remus continued.

"You'll probably need...oh—say a hundred gallons. That way you can get all your school supplies and still have some money left over that you can keep with you or get some other things if you like," Remus advised.

"Okay," Harry taking the sack Griphook had gave him began to pile the gallons into it, estimating to a hundred.

"And you should get a few sickles and knuts for some of the smaller things," Remus said, taking another sack and putting the lesser coins in it.

Harry's own was extremely heavy now that it was filled with gallons. "Here, let me put a lightening charm on that," Remus said after watching Harry struggle with the bag.

As he went to pick it back up he was surprised to find it was almost weightless and looking inside it to make sure the gold was still there, he looked back at Remus who was sending him an amused glance.

"I told you magic was real," Remus said a grin. Harry grinned back, and they made their way out of the bank and back into the alley.

After a few hours of shopping, Harry had almost everything he needed. Everything except for a wand.

"Why don't you get this one by yourself Harry," Remus suggested, hands in his pockets as he stood outside the door of Ollivander's which Harry's hand rested on.

"What?" He asked, surprised as he whirled around to look at Remus.

"Go on ahead. I have some business I need to do and...well getting a wand is kind of a—unique experience. It's something I think you'll appreciate on your own." Remus said lightly.

"But—um..." Harry honestly felt a bit panicked, although it did embarrass him to admit it, Remus was his security blanket in this whole strange world he hadn't even fully believed existed until then. The thought of just being off by himself was a bit daunting.

"You'll be fine," Remus added, reassuringly catching his expression and putting a hand on the young boy's shoulder. "I'll be right across the street, alright?" He gestured over toward some magical animal store with a nod.

"Yeah," Harry said uncertainly. He felt guilty for keeping Remus, after all the trouble he probably put him through just to bring him there and here he wouldn't even let the man take care of some business. Harry blushed as he reprimanded himself mentally.

Remus with one last look back had started over toward the other side of the street, and so Harry with a deep breath pushed open the wand shop door.

It was rather dark and slightly musty smelling inside the shop. There was no one there, the dust covered surfaces making everything a little eerie.

"Hello?" Harry called out, looking around. He had reached the counter where he sat some of the bags he was carrying from his earlier shopping.

He looked at the small bell ringer appraisingly, it was the only thing without a light film of dust on the countertop.

Reaching over tentatively, he rang it, the high chimed ding seeming to echo throughout the store.

"Yes?" A voice asked from behind.

Harry almost jumped out of his skin as he looked behind him.

There standing only a meter away was an elderly gentlemen, with the most glowing, creepy in a way, blue eyes.

Harry's heart rate was still spiked from being surprised by the man's sudden appearance has he answered, "I'm here to buy a wand...sir."

"Why of course, I assumed that naturally. This is a wand shop after all my dear boy." The man smiled, moving around to stand behind the counter top.

He extended his hand over it, "I am Ollivander."

Harry smiled, he almost said '_Well naturally, this is Ollivander's after all_,' but he was worried Ollivander would misconstrue it and be offended.

The last thing he wanted to do was offend the owner of the shop, or anyone really.

So instead he kept silent, giving Ollivander a timid and awkward smile.

"Well Harry, I must say time does go by quickly." Harry started a bit, amazed how Ollivander knew who he was. He was in disguise and while he knew he was famous in this world, he was still _just_ Harry, just Harry who he was sure had never met Ollivander.

"Oh yes, why it seems just yesterday your mother and father were in here buying their first wands!" Ollivander added, from where he was now out of sight, hidden behind the massive shelves of narrow long boxes he had walked behind.

"You knew my mother and father?" Harry asked interestedly, leaning over the counter to try to see Ollivander better at the revelation.

"Well, almost every wizard and witch in Britain has bought their wand from this store." He said simply.

Harry deflated, sorely disappointed, "Oh."

Glancing away from the boxes to see the boy's crest fallen expression he added kindly, "Your father came in here, he was around eleven of course...when they all get their wands. He was a ball of energy, your poor grandmother had her hands full trying to keep that one out of trouble. In fact, before I could even offer a wand to him—he ran back here and began trying them himself!"

Harry was listening with rapt attention, a slight awed smile on his face to finally hear about the memories of people he had cherished even when he didn't even know the most basic things about them.

Ollivander seeing his audience's desire continued, "Your grandmother was not happy about that. But it was all well and fine. He ended up with an eleven inch, mahogany—good for transfiguration."

Ollivander shuffled through more of the what seemed to be a never ending stack of wands, "Your mother on the other hand...well she was much different. A little shy actually—" he looked back toward Harry meaningfully, "—a bit like you, I'd say."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond so he just waited for Ollivander to continue, "She on the other hand had a ten and one quarter inch willow wand. Wonderful for charms, which I hear she was very adept at."

He came back to the front with one container, opening it gently he set it on the counter.

"Ah, here we have it. Dragon heartstring...quite the fighter that horntail was...ten and a quarter inch, willow. Nice for transfiguration, a powerful wand." Ollivander said as he twirled the wand between his fingers, eyeing it with an artist's eye.

He handed the wand out to Harry who stared blankly at it for a moment.

"Well take it! Wave it around a bit...we won't know until you try." He said a bit impatiently, departing from his usual dreamy speech.

Harry reached out, hastily grabbing the wand and stood there a bit dumbfounded for a moment. It felt like any other piece of wood did, he waved it around a bit unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do.

The loud crash of the wands flying out of the shelves and hitting the wall startled him so badly he dropped it.

Ollivander snatched the wand back from him, placing it back in the case and putting it on the pile of wand boxes scattered on the floor from the trial.

"I'm so sorry—I'll pick those up—" Harry began, worried about the mess he had caused. His first day as a wizard and already he was a disaster, he fretted.

Ollivander waved him off, "It is no matter." He said no more as he shuffled through some boxes of wands.

"Well, that one won't do...hmm—try this." He handed Harry a different one, this one of a darker wood.

Several ruined shelves, thrown about wands, a destroyed countertop, and a shattered vase later, Ollivander finally stopped handing wands to Harry for a moment.

Harry looked over at him from around the pile of failed wands, worried the man had finally given up. There must have been some kind of mistake, Harry wasn't a wizard after all.

He would have to apologize to Remus, Remus must think he's someone else. There must be another Harry Potter who really was the son of Remus's old friends. He would have to see if Mr. Elwin—

His inner monologue was interrupted by Ollivander who had been standing in front of him, studying him the entire time. "I think I have just the thing."

He didn't even seem frustrated, if anything the difficult customer seemed to have excited him.

Harry waited, tapping his foot in his anxiousness as Ollivander came back to the front with just a single box and gingerly removed the wand from it. Holding it out to Harry by balancing it on a finger.

He looked on it like a scientist would on their greatest experiment unfolding, a look that made Harry slightly uncomfortable.

He took the wand, and with a deep breath hoping that this one would work, made one smooth sweeping arc.

A warm feeling swept through his fingertips down to his toes, and gold sparks shot from the wand all the way into the ceiling.

"Bravo...bravo," Ollivander said, walking in a circle around Harry as he surveyed him. The behavior made Harry a bit nervous but he paid little mind to it as he was so relieved a wand had worked for him.

"You know Mr. Potter, I remember every wand I've ever sold." Ollivander stated from the behind the countertop where he now stood.

"D—do you sir?" Harry asked, stumbling over his words slightly in his bewilderment.

"Yes, every single one. Your wand Mr. Potter—" He said gesturing to the one Harry still held in his hand, "—it has a phoenix feather core."

"It does sir?" Harry asked after a pause, trying to ascertain exactly where the old wand maker was going with this.

"Yes, the phoenix that gave that feather also gave another feather—just one other. It so happens that this other feather, the brother to that wand—" He paused looking intently at Harry.

"—it gave you that scar."

The statement hung in the air for an immeasurable moment. Harry nearly dropped the wand he was holding.

Remus had told him about Voldemort, he had explained how his parents had opposed to everything he had stood for, and how it had cost them their lives.

He had also told him how he, Harry, had somehow survived that night and Voldemort had never been heard from again. To Harry it was a slight disappointment, it seemed even in a world of the abnormal he could not loose his 'freak' status Petunia had so graciously bestowed on him since he was found on her doorstep.

He took a deep shaky breath, carefully placing the wand on the countertop and eyeing it warily as if it were dangerous.

"How much sir?" Harry asked, politely but clearly anxious to leave.

"He who must not be named did great things Mr. Potter, terrible—but great. It seems as though we can except great—"

"How much sir?" Harry asked, raising his eyes to meet the store keepers. He was feeling uncomfortable to the point of sickness now in the pit of his stomach. He just wanted to leave the shop.

Ollivander looked a little taken back but nodded, something akin to understanding seeming to pass over his features.

"Seven gallons."

Harry nodded, reaching in his pouch and counting the little gold coins. He placed them on the counter, and taking his wand, which had been placed back into the box Ollivander had brought it to him in he left rather hastily.

Outside the shop he walked down the alley a small way, looking for the pet store Remus had gone to.

He was only a little ways from the store when a snatch of a conversation caught his ear.

"They still haven't found the Potter boy then?" An middle aged brunette witch in deep purple asked a plainer dressed woman with bright red hair.

"No, Dorothea told me Dumbledore himself is searching but there hasn't been a single stitch of the boy." The other one said in a lower voice. Harry stopped, backing around the corner and crouching slightly in one of the alley ways springing off of Diagon. He could hear them well from there.

"He was Hogwart's age this year wasn't he Molly? Same age as your youngest?" The brunette asked.

"Well yes—I mean no. No, Ron isn't my youngest. But he would that age I suppose." Molly answered, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"So how is Elai—" The red head's attempt at a subject change was ignored.

"I heard his relatives told them all kinds of things when they came checkin' for the boy. Said he was right nasty piece of work. That's why they kicked him out." The brunette went on.

"Well...he is a Potter." Molly finally said hesitantly.

Harry flinched slightly, what had the Dursleys done? Would he ever be free of their influence?

"True, a dark family if there ever was one." The brunette agreed. "And I remember Lily Evans from school...my brother fancied her his fourth year. Every boy did. She of course never spared him a glance, but she was like that wasn't she? Cold hearted that one."

Molly didn't say anything, her brow furrowing slightly as she looked even more uncomfortable.

The brunette looked over at her and a flash of recognition came upon her, "I'm sorry Molly. I forgot—Susan was rather close to her. Wasn't she? I'm sorry dear, you probably don't want to discuss that."

Molly finally seemed to snap out of her trance, "No, no. It's fine. Um—yes, I...she and Susan were rather good friends I think in their school years." Molly said, a little disconcerted.

"You mustn't ever blame yourself for that one dear. It was Black that turned her bad, no one holds it against you Prewetts." The brunette went on, not noticing Molly's flinch at the name 'Susan,' and the anger that ignited in her eyes at the mention of Black.

"Well, many are not what they seem." Molly said coldly, swallowing as she fiddled with her hands.

"I'm sorry dear," the other woman reached over and patted her on the arm.

Harry sat around the corner, his legs beginning to ache slightly from crouching. His heart rate was slightly accelerated, Remus had told him his mother was the kindest person he had ever met. Surely that was the truth?

"Well to be honest I hope they never find him." The brunette said after a silence.

"Who?" Molly asked, looking as if she had been jarred from her thoughts.

"The Potter child." The other woman answered slightly impatiently.

"Oh yes...well Albus certainly is trying hard to find him." She answered noncommittally.

"I am aware. Heart to large for his own good sometimes that man," The other woman shook her head.

"But, well everyone knows it, there was something dark about that boy. That's why You-know-who went after him." The woman said.

Molly looked unsure. Noticing her expression the brunette latched onto her arm, "Come now Molly—you can't tell me you want him be a part of this world. Another dark lord! You want him going to Hogwarts, sharing the same school as your children!" She asked incredulously.

Molly finally replied after a moment, "It seems awful to say, but I do admit that it would probably be for the best if he wasn't found. Let him live in the muggle world," She shrugged with a sigh.

"I'm glad you're understanding. A lot of people are trying to tell Albus to do the same." The other woman said.

"I will say that if he does come to Hogwarts, my children will be staying away from him." Molly said, and with that the two women walked further down the street away from Harry's hearing ranger where he hid around the corner.

He sat back against the wall, allowing his legs to sprawl out in front of him as he fell back.

'_Something dark about him,'_ Her words rang in his head. He looked down at his hands. He had just gotten the wand incarnate of a murderer, a murderer who had killed his own parents. Maybe she was right about him.

Thoughts like this continued to bother him until he laid his had down in his hands on his lap, trying to block out the world.

That was how Remus found him several minutes later.

"Harry?" The boy glanced up to the tall height of the older man where he stood above him.

"What are doing here?" Remus asked incredulously.

"Well...er—" He couldn't exactly say eavesdropping now could he?

"Are you alright?" Remus asked worriedly.

"Yeah, yeah...I'm fine. I just—can we go now please?" Harry asked as he scrambled to his feet.

"We are done with your school shopping...but I was planning one going for some ice cream?" Remus said, a note of question entering his voice as he continued to look at Harry curiously.

"No. I mean—if you would want to." Harry quickly tacked on, scared to offend the man.

"No Harry, that's fine. We'll just be on our way then." Remus said, reading his charges expression.

Harry nodded, gratefully relieved that he wouldn't have to stay there any longer.

"Oh, by the way—" Remus said gesturing behind him as he stepped aside so Harry could see.

"—I know it's a little late. But better late then never I suppose...happy birthday Harry."

There behind him was a beautiful snowy owl sitting in a bird cage. She was asleep, her head tucked under one large white wing as the sun light glistened off her feathers.

"I—Thank you!" Harry said, startled. He had never gotten a birthday present before, that he could remember. He hadn't even known his birthday until he had looked it up on his school records one time.

Remus smiled at him, "Well lets get home then. Probably for the best anyhow, your owl will need to get settled."

Harry nodded, thinking of all the things he needed to ask Remus when they were back at the cottage. It seemed there was actually much more to his story that Remus had told him.

**Please Review.**

**Thank you so much to everyone that has, while I am lacking time to respond to every single one individually, know that I do read every single review and really consider what they have to say. **

**The next chapter will see him at nine and three quarters, and after that there will probably be what I am thinking will come out to be three chapters about his first year before we will be in second year. Like I wrote earlier, I do not want to spend an inordinate amount of time with Ginny not in the story but I can't leave out first year entirely and have the story develop correctly. **


	4. Of Old Wizards & Ginger Girls

**Chapter Four—Of Old Wizards and Ginger Girls **

They arrived back at Remus's cottage. Remus, as the personal aide of Mr. Hardin, lived in the caretakers house at the edge of the estate.

Harry put the sleeping owl in his room, taking out some of the supplies Remus had gotten to take care of the pet and using them as the directions said to.

He put his other new things in his room also, not really put away as he had too much on his mind, but in the corner just sitting under the windowsill.

Remus was waiting for him at the little table in kitchen nook, sipping a glass of water.

Harry sat across from him in the only other chair at the table.

"So—"

"I—"

They both started at the same time. Harry blushing and fell silent, but Remus urged him on. "Continue, what were you going to say?" He asked kindly.

Harry was quiet another moment. "I heard some...I heard some things today after I got my wand."

Remus immediately looked worried.

"What exactly did you hear?" He asked cautiously.

"There were two women talking and...well they said someone named Albus was looking for me. And they also said—" He broke off uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape.

"What did they say Harry?" Remus prompted gently, bringing him back to look at Remus face to face.

"They said they hoped he didn't find me," the emotion he was trying to hide leaked through his voice as that one statement said it all.

There was a long moment where they just stared at each other, before with a gentle shake of his head, Remus seemed to regain his bearings.

"Ah," he sighed, sitting further back in his chair.

"I should have told you Harry...but I was really hoping that maybe some perceptions had changed in the past few years and I didn't want to make you upset about it." He ran a hand through his hair looking exceptionally stressed.

Harry waited for him to continue.

"The wizarding world can be very judgmental about certain things. We did just fight a war over it after all." He added bitterly. "The sad part is that both sides are just as judge-mental as the other, just in different ways. Looking for different traits I guess. Sometimes I wonder what it was we were even fighting for. We won...and yet, nothing changed."

"But I thought you said that Voldemort was the wrong side and that—" Harry started, alarmed had the implication.

"I did Harry. And that is still _very _true. But the world is not black and white. And while Voldemort and his followers are certainly wrong, the other side...well they have their flaws too."

"They don't kill people too do they?" Harry asked, wondering what kind of world this was exactly.

"No—they aren't like Voldemort." Remus paused, trying to determine how to explain.

"The other side, well most of the wizarding world really, fear things they don't understand. I suppose that statement can actually go for the entire human race." He said with a small chuckle.

Regaining a somber expression he continued, "If there's one thing no one understood, it was how you survived."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "And that makes many people afraid of what power they think you might have," he continued gently.

Harry looked up, a hope lighting his face, "But I don't have any power. I'm just me. Just Harry! If I can show them that, then they'll understand and—"

Remus laid a hand on his arm, quieting him with one sympathetic glance, "I'm sorry Harry. But I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. This is a burden you'll probably have to carry your whole life in the wizarding world. You aren't just Harry, your special—powers aside you are, and I know you're going to do great things, just from knowing you this short amount of time...and I do hope with all my heart, that the wizarding world changes, maybe you'll be the one to finally do it."

Harry smiled at him shyly, amazed by the confidence this man showed in him that no one had ever expressed before.

"Who's looking for me?" Harry asked after a moment, surprised by the truth that there was indeed a search party for him.

"Many I suppose, but at the head of it—Albus Dumbledore."

"Albus Dumbledore?" Harry repeated, his eyebrows raising as he looked at Remus worriedly.

"He's the headmaster at Hogwarts, has been since—oh well since before even your parents and I went there. I need to write to him today to tell him you're with me," Remus added, looking slightly guilty. A look that did not go un-noticed by Harry who with a slightly raised eyebrow prompted him to go on.

"I've..well I've been stalling telling him. I was worried they'd take you away." Remus said softly, as if afraid speaking any louder would make it true.

"But why would—" Harry's question was interrupted by a knock from the door, one that seemed to echo in the quiet cottage.

Remus looked curiously, if a bit alarmed at the entrance. "Hardins away today on business...I sent him those files..." He muttered to himself as he rose to answer it, the puzzled expression still on his face.

When he opened it, he was facing away from Harry, so that Harry could not see Remus's face or the person at the door.

"H-Headmaster, what—what brings you here?" He asked, his tone polite after his initial shock.

An elderly, grandfatherly if patronizing voice sounded back in a soft tone, "Nothing pleasant I'm afraid Remus. And call me Albus dear boy, you are after all not in school anymore," he added with a soft chuckle. Gracefully stepping past Remus as if the former had warmly invited him inside.

Remus turned, still looking stunned by the event of the past minute. He began to open his mouth to speak but was beaten to it by the old man, "You see Remus, we have a great problem on our hands I'm afraid. Harry Potter has gone missing you see. It seems the boy had a..._misunderstanding_ with his caretakers.

"You understand I'm sure how important it is we find him?" Albus said, peering at Remus intently over his half moon spectacles, blue eyes shimmering.

"Of course. In fact Albus I—"

Albus placed a hand on his shoulder, "I knew I would be able to count on you Remus. That is why I came to you. You are after-all the best person to aide me in a search for Lily and _James_'s son." He said, in a voice just a little too sincere to be so.

Remus who had looked down at the floor looked up then, some anger in his brown eyes making them look a little harder then their soft tones normally lent.

"I'm guessing it is because I was the _best _choice that you are just now coming to me after he has been missing for _months?_" He asked, a bit of an edge in his voice.

Albus looked slightly surprised, but recovered quickly although some of his grandfatherly aura had left to take on a sharper edge as well.

"I wasn't aware you still kept up with the wizarding world my friend," he replied lightly, just a little too lightly.

"I have my contacts." Remus said, his tone guarded.

They stood in the foyer, facing each other a moment but saying nothing.

Dumbledore turned slightly then, his eyes straying to the hall that showed a straight view into the kitchen and breakfast nook.

His eyes landed directly on Harry and he gave Remus an unamused smile, "Well now Remus, it seems you have been busy, haven't you?"

Remus followed his gaze, balking and looking uncomfortable. "I have been meaning to write you, in fact I was just about to—" He began his tone much meeker than the edge it had had before.

Albus however had already began to make his way into the nook.

"Why you have caused _quite_ a search Mr. Potter," he said.

"Sorry sir," Harry replied, unsure of how to respond. He looked to Remus for guidance but his face was completely blank, giving away nothing.

Dumbledore took a seat across from him, conjuring a chair so Remus could sit in the other.

"That's alright my dear boy. All that matter is that you are here now." He said, the grandfatherly smile re-appearing. "And at least now that we have found you, we can call of the search." At that he sent a glance at Remus who didn't meet his eyes, before smiling at Harry again.

Harry smiled back meekly, the act appearing very forced and fooling no one. Dumbledore however, if he sensed Harry's discomfort, gave no outward implication of it.

He pulled a small, purple, velvet bag out of his rich blue cloak that was covered in detailed goal embroidery. Dumbledore's eccentric but luxurious wardrobe was even more highlighted in comparison by Remus's shaggy, plain, field mouse brown muggle attire, that had several layers of patchers where the material had worn thin.

He reached into the little bag pulling out yellow candies. "Lemon Pop?" He asked, kindly enough.

Harry looked at the candy, remembering all the times Dudley had gotten them and he never had. He had always wanted to try them.

But something, some instinct deep down inside him was alarmed by them. And so, looking the headmaster in the eye, he replied politely, "No thank you, sir."

Something seemed to flicker in those blue eyes as he put the candy away then, taking one for himself that seemed, only to the most perceptive eye, slightly smaller than some of the others.

He put the bag back into his cloak, his lips forming a thin line.

"Are you excited about Hogwarts Harry? I can call you Harry can't I?" He asked, seeming genuinely interested.

"Yes, sir." Harry replied truthfully. He was excited, perhaps also scared, and already missing Remus, but certainly excited.

Dumbledore nodded, still not acknowledging Remus at all, but Remus seemed content, for the moment, to let that be as he sat silently watching the exchange.

"I'm sure I speak for all the staff when I say we are all excited at Hogwarts to have _Lily and James's_ son enter our doors." He said jovially, neither he nor Remus missing the way Harry's face lit up and his demeanor warmed towards the old man the minute he mentioned his parents.

Harry was too overjoyed to find someone who not only knew his parents, but apparently liked them, to even consider any ulterior motives anymore.

"You knew my parents?" He asked, his previous distrust he had felt edging over him towards the headmaster, completely forgotten upon the discovery that this man had been in league somehow with his mother and father.

"Knew them? Well of course Harry, they came to Hogwarts just like you will! Fine students both of them." Dumbledore went on, something like triumph gleaming in his eyes.

With only the eagerness an orphan could possess, he pressed for details. "Really? What subjects did they like?" He asked.

Dumbledore faltered there, hesitating ever so slightly as he seemed to try to think of an explanation.

Remus cut in, quietly, finally looking up from the table to meet Harry's eyes a little sadly.

"James loved transfiguration, it always came easily to him. Lily on the other hand, was tremendously gifted in charms, but a good hand at potions too. Then again they were both good students all around." He said, his voice low and soft compared to the dramatic flares in Dumbledore's speech.

"Yes, why I remember Horace, the potion's master back in those days, telling me that your mother..." Dumbledore started quickly, trying to bring Harry's attention back to him.

But unfortunately for Albus the spell had ended as quickly as it had come, and the automatic euphoria Harry had always felt upon hearing about his parents, had begun to evaporate until he was calm enough to remember where he was, who's side he was on, and that he could sense that were indeed sides.

He looked across the table, meeting Remus's eyes, and felt an understanding. This man hadn't really cared about his parents, and Harry suspected he didn't care about him—Remus though, Remus did.

Dumbledore finally noticed he had lost his audience and he cleared his throat, letting them sit in silence for a few moments.

"With the term starting so soon, we can wait to sort out this...complication...with your guardians next year." He said causally, as if they had already discussed it and the matter was finalized.

"What?" Harry asked, his head snapping back from where he had been looking out of the window.

"Your aunt and uncle—next summer of course you'll be returning." Dumbledore stated.

Remus looked between the two of them a little worriedly, "Albus, actually from what Harry's told me, I think it would be best—"

"I'm staying with Remus." Harry interrupted, as if he hadn't even heard the aforementioned speak.

He was looking straight at Dumbledore and both men stared at him a little stunned by his forcefulness when he was usually so timid and respectful.

Remus however hid his prideful smile while Albus froze, clearly unhappy with the display of rebellion.

Harry, realizing what he had done blushed and looked down, his shoulders slumping slightly as if he was trying to decompress inwards and disappear.

"I mean...that is if he'll take me..." Harry looked nervously and uncertainly at Remus, who nodded, letting some of his smile leak through.

Albus however didn't seem as pleased.

"I'm afraid that won't do Harry. You see there is powerful magic involved with your residence with your aunt and uncle. A protection of sorts." He explained, the grandfatherly, patient tone seeming more strained.

Harry, finding another spurt of boldness from Remus's acceptance, objected, "What does their protection matter if they're..." he trailed off, not yet bold enough to disclose what had happened at his aunt and uncles even though he had said enough over the weeks that Remus had guessed most of it.

And Albus, peeking through Petunia and Vernon's memory, knew all of it.

Harry regained his composure. "I like it much better here sir," he said stiffly. "And I think, that I'm safer with a fully grown wizard here that can take care of me then them anyway. We can always put some wards up..." Harry suggested hopefully, drawing from the little he had read in some of Remus's spare books.

"Actually," Remus began, "I was thinking we could spend summers and holidays in Potter Manor, it is Harry's after all and it's wards are equal to Hogwarts. Maybe even better—if I may be so bold." He added, watching the displeasure grow on Albus's face.

Harry turned to Remus, curiously but Remus just gave him a look that promised to explain later.

"I don't think that would be a wise arrangement..." Albus began.

"I think it would be great sir!" Harry added, enthusiastically, the wild hope he had been building of getting to stay with Remus growing even more.

"I was named second to..._him_...in their will after all, as a guardian for Harry. Petunia and Vernon weren't even on the list," Remus said, a little accusingly.

Albus sighed, not used to working this hard when persuading others to follow his plan.

He looked at the two intently before turning solely to Harry.

"The...you see Harry—" Albus started hesitantly, ready to play his final hand. "—Remus isn't _fit _I'm afraid to be your caretaker." The blood seemed to drain from Remus's face, he looked at Albus with a mixture of shock and betrayal.

He watched Harry's guarded expression, looking for any change. "You see Harry, Remus is a _werewolf_." He let the statement hang, waiting for the fear.

"And as such, he is no situation to handle a child. It is impossible for someone like him. I'm afraid it's just too _dangerous._" He continued, still waiting to see the reaction.

Harry however just kept looking at him, glancing at Remus to see his head ducked as he looked down ashamed.

"I—I don't know anything about werewolves sir." Harry began, and Dumbledore smiled ever so slightly, already anticipating his victory.

Remus looked even more dejected.

"But I do know Remus. And I don't really care what he is—I'd like to stay with him." He finished, resolutely and determined.

Dumbledore looked a little stunned for a split second before he regained his composure.

Remus too looked stunned, but a smile grew across his who face that made him look ten years younger, as if he was the age he actually was.

Albus rose then, vanishing the chair he had conjured.

"We will discuss this at a later time," he announced, a little abruptly before giving each of them a brief nod and leaving before anything else could be said.

Remus looked over at Harry seriously, "There's a lot we need to talk about. A lot I need to tell you. I was going to tell you about...my _condition." _

"Do you trust Headmaster Dumbledore?" Harry asked suddenly.

Remus looked surprised by the turn of the conversation. "Well...I mean...he is a great headmaster, and he...he changed my life by giving me a chance to go to school, no other headmaster would have..." Remus answered, looking very shaken by the question.

"He's—he's a good man," Remus added, as if trying to convince himself.

"Okay. But do you trust him?" Harry asked again.

Remus didn't say anything for a long time as he thought. When he finally answered it was in a quiet voice, "I—I used to."

OoOoOo

The air was crisp, as if autumn had already come as they walked towards the train station. Remus looked over at Harry, taking in his tight expression.

He laughed a little, "Relax Harry, you'll love Hogwarts...I know I did." He said trying to reassure the boy who had been shifting between anxiety and fear about the trip the entire morning.

Harry gave Remus a small and unconvincing smile.

They reached the platform soon enough, Harry still wearing some glamours that Remus had cast so that they would fade away in the next hour.

Remus just didn't want Harry's appearance causing a scene at the platform and giving Harry a rough start, he would look like himself again by the time they reached the school.

They ran through the barrier, having arrived far earlier than they needed to, the platform was empty, not yet filled with the families it would be in the next hour.

It had been best they got there early, enough knew about Remus's lycanthropy that it would cause a problem for him to be seen dropping a child off.

They got his trunk loaded and Harry looked at him uncertainly as he stepped onto the train.

"You'll be fine Harry," Remus repeated.

"I know...you'll write to me won't you?" He asked.

"Of course. And don't forget to take some pictures with that camera. It's a good time to make memories at Hogwarts, you'll want to remember that...when you're older." Remus added, a nostalgic look in his eye that for once, wasn't so overwhelmed with sadness.

Harry nodded looking down at his camera they had gotten in Diagon Alley, it was a magical one although it looked just like an old fashioned muggle camera.

"I will...and Remus—thanks, for everything." Harry said sincerely.

Remus pulled him into a brief hug, discretely wiping away from tears and chuckling a bit at the thought of what James would say if he knew what a softie he had become. The jokes he and Sirius...he shied away from that thought, his mind used to shunting ones like it away.

"It was no problem," he told Harry.

They shared one last smile and another round of goodbyes before Remus left as the first families started to arrive.

Harry finally went to sit down in a compartment. He chose one in the back even though they were all empty.

It was an hour later, when the last minute scramblers were climbing on as the train began to leave that he saw _her_.

She was the prettiest girl he thought he had ever seen, even though she must have been younger than him with her tiny stature. Her red hair was so bright, catching in the sunlight enough to light the whole station.

As he watched her run after the train as if doing so would make it stop, he wondered who it was that she cared so much about on the train that made her run after it like that.

He briefly let himself fantasize that it was him, he wished who wanted to stay with him that badly. But thinking of Remus he felt a bit better, remembering that at least now, he did have someone.

But quickly acting before she disappeared as the train began to speed up, he took Remus's advice and snapped a picture of her. Deciding he desperately wanted the image of her running after it to keep, frozen forever so that he would never forget it.

**Reviews are like chocolate candies, each one is great but you always want more. Unlike Dumbledore's lemon pops, those things are just down right suspicious! **


	5. Questionable Allegiances

**Chapter Five—Questionable Allegiances **

Harry remained alone in his compartment most of the train ride. He had felt hopeful at first that someone would join him and perhaps he would...well he wasn't sure what he would do after that point but he never had to worry about it as no one joined him the entire ride.

He supposed though, that he had chosen a compartment in the back and out of the way, so it was his own doing that he sat alone. Harry consoled his crushed hopes slightly by trying to convince himself he hadn't wanted anyone to join him anyway, that he was more comfortable alone.

But he couldn't help but feel disappointed.

Soon enough though, they were arriving and Harry changed quickly into his robes before sitting back down. He tapped his foot impatiently as the anxiety began to set in again.

Remus had explained the sorting ceremony to him but it didn't make him feel much better. The thought of having to go up, in front of the _entire _school made him feel sick.

Before he knew it, the train was gliding to a stop, and he knew that no amount of nervousness on his part would delay the inevitable.

"Firs' years, fir's years over here," A voice bellowed over the crowd of jostling students. Harry with his small frame, still very thin from all the malnutrition of his time with Dursleys, had a very difficult time making it through the crowd of over excited teens.

"Sorry...sorry...excuse me please...oh—sorry!" He apologized, but most students were ignoring him and certainly weren't apologizing when they knocked into him. Harry however, ever polite, kept spouting his apologies to anyone who might listen as he tried the difficult task of respectfully cutting through a crowd.

He eventually reached the giant and the other first years but made a concerted effort to keep his head down, hoping that no one would recognize him.

"Alrigh' is tha' everyone?" No one answered the giant but he took that as confirmation.

"Follow me, yeh lot better keep up!" He took them over to a dock of the lake that stretched out in front of the castle.

The towers loomed over the rest of the school, all glowing glittery with the lights from the windows, and the whole picture was reflected back onto the lake.

The whole thing was like something out of a fantasy, but then again Harry thought, this whole concept of magic and wizards and witches, had all been like a weird dream rather than reality. He wondered if he would always feel that way.

Dream or not, the castle was a magnificent sight and Harry allowed himself to look up at it just for a moment, awestruck and excited at the prospect of possibly belonging to such an amazing place.

The boats were lined up and they each piled in them, four apiece as the giant—Hagrid, as he introduced himself, had instructed.

Harry, still trying not to be noticed, which was easy to do in the scramble of first years, climbed into the first boat he could find.

Joining him were three other boys, two rather large as if they were several years older, and the other with platinum blonde hair that had been slicked back.

The blonde one looked at him appraisingly as the others gawked at the castle. Harry immediately had the feeling that this was not someone who was friend as he looked back into the grey eyes of the other boy.

"This place really has gone to the dogs, hasn't it?" The blonde asked his cronies, gesturing towards Hagrid.

They laughed a little stupidly, nodding. Harry stayed silent, not wanting to draw attention to himself but yet very uncomfortable with how they spoke about the half giant. He had seemed nice enough taking them to the boat.

And Harry hated bullies, they had after all tormented him almost his entire life—these boys reminded him too much of them.

The blonde looked back over to where Harry was sitting.

"And you are?" He asked, snidely like a spoiled prince. Harry panicked, he considered lying—making up a name, or just not answering.

After a split second of thought however he realized it was pointless, he may as well come clean. Everyone would know soon enough anyway.

"Harry." He introduced, inspiration hitting him as he hoped to walk the thin line between deception and outright lying.

It seemed however the blonde was not going to let him get away with it.

"Harry...?" He asked, eyebrow raised as if the answer would determine everything he thought of the other boy. Harry realized that maybe it would, perhaps these were some of the people Remus had warned him about.

In that case he really didn't want to tell them his name.

But it seemed he had no other option, "...Potter." He mumbled quietly, but the other boy seemed to catch it regardless of his low tone.

The blondes face morphed for a moment into one of shock before being carefully rearranged into an arrogant, self satisfied smirk.

"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," he announced pompously, holding out a hand for Harry to shake. His manners seemed to indicate that Harry should have been _honored _to meet him. But Harry found himself anything but.

"Hello," he responded, a little shyly.

Malfoy seemed even more smug when he took in the other boy's shy demeanor.

"This is Crabbe, and that's Goyle," he pointed to the two other boys who seemed to turn for a second from their gawking at the castle when he mentioned their names. They acted like guard dogs almost, Malfoy being their master.

It made Harry even more uncomfortable.

Goyle realized who Harry was, having been listening somewhat to the conversation, unlike Crabbe.

"So, do you remember what _he_ looks like?" He asked excitedly.

Malfoy glared at him, sending the other boy cringing back. He turned back towards Harry, "Sorry about him, his father sometimes _forgot _to teach him his manners." Harry took note of how Malfoy treated the other two like toddlers even though they must have been the same age to be first years also. They were big enough to be fifteen, about three times the size of Harry who was significantly undersized from his abusive upbringing.

Malfoy was still scolding Goyle silently. But although the icy glare he sent Goyle showed his disapproval, Malfoy could not hide the burning curiosity when he looked back at Harry.

Harry uneasily sat there, not sure how to respond.

"So—" Malfoy began, but much to Harry's relief was interrupted with their timely arrival to the boat house.

Quickly hopping out of the boat at first opportunity, Harry tried to put more space in between himself and Malfoy. He was unsuccessful however as the other boy and his two followers kept right behind him.

Soon they were all gathered in the entrance hall, where a stern looking woman with a tight bun looked down at them waiting for them all to gather there. Her eyes seemed to linger on Harry just for a moment.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said haltingly, her tone not very welcoming but a thin smile lining her lips.

"In a few moments I will escort you into the great hall and you will be sorted into your houses. While you are here, you're house will be like you're family..."

Harry stopped paying attention at that point, already knowing what was happening from Remus.

She finished a speech he was sure she had given many times before disappearing for a moment, leaving them all standing there uncertainly, excited and worried whispers quickly bursting out of most of them.

Malfoy was still standing behind him.

In front of Harry, a red headed boy was talking to anyone that could hear him about how his twin brothers had told him they would have to fight a troll to be sorted.

Had Harry not been so nervous about going before everyone and being revealed as _Harry Potter_, he might have laughed at the ginger's story. The boy's hair briefly reminded him of the girl at the train station, but on a little closer examination he noticed that the boy's hair, while just as bright, was more orange than hers had been. Hers had been such a true, tomato red, completely crimson head of hair unlike the orange and gold mixed in the boy's hair.

Malfoy however, also had had his attention drawn to the tall boy with his flaming red-orange hair.

"If first years actually had to prove their worth, none of your lot would have been allowed in Weasley." Malfoy drawled.

The other boy turned around, his ears growing bright red has he glared at Draco.

"Yeah—what would you know about that Malfoy?" He asked, his stance tense as if waiting for a fight.

Harry immediately felt even more uneasy about Draco, his suspicions confirmed as he watched the other boy mock Weasley.

"More than you. Your family is a disgrace to our world...and they don't even pay you well for it." He taunted, a smirk on his face again.

Harry looked between them, deciding he had had enough already of Draco. From the few minutes he had known him he had decided he had found another Dudley. An even more spoiled but actually powerful Dudley, which to him, just sounded like a nightmare.

Weasley's face went red but Draco continued, "At least I suppose your dumpy mother makes some side income with her—"

"Leave him alone," Harry said quietly but firmly, sticking up for Weasley.

Malfoy looked at him, surprised before sending him a warning look, "Stay out of this Potter."

Upon hearing his surname there were some gasps in the crowd. But Harry was too focused on Malfoy to notice much.

"He's just been standing there, not bothering you, leave him alone." He repeated firmly looking Draco in the eye. Draco looked back at him, and Harry could tell that this betrayal had closed that possibility for friendship. He found he didn't mind too much though, he didn't want to be friends with Draco anyways if this was how he was.

Malfoy though had one last hand to play, "Never can win your own battles can you Weasley?" He taunted as he realized that McGonagall was re-entering the hall.

Weasley reeled back, "I don't need that dark arts, death eater scum to defend me!" He burst out, glaring at Harry who's mouth almost dropped from shock.

He looked down, hurt and angry. He had stuck up for Weasley, stuck up for him like he had always dreamed of someone doing for him, which they had never done when he was being tormented far worse, and yet this was what he got in repayment?

He stepped back, his expression going cold. "I won't bother in the future," he said cooly, the hurt not showing much in his voice.

A clearing throat caught all of their attention, startling everyone except Draco who had known it was coming.

McGonagall stood directly behind Ron, where he had taken Draco's bait better than Malfoy could have planned himself.

"Mr. Weasley, we do not call fellow students..._we do not use those labels_ here at Hogwarts," she said.

Ron turned, a stricken look on his face as he looked up at his future head of house.

"Detention friday night," she added, before turning to the rest of them to instruct everyone to follow her into the great hall.

Weasley glared darkly at Harry and he felt miserable. He had alienated and made an enemy out of Malfoy and apparently was never going to have a friend in Weasley. It seemed everyone was against him.

He did take some consolation in the fact that he didn't want Malfoy has a friend anyway.

The great hall was better than Harry could have imagined it, but seeing how many people were in it and seeing how he would have to walk up stairs, and sit in front of absolutely _everyone_ to be sorted, made him feel sick again.

The alphabet had never passed so quickly as he stood there by himself, wishing he had someone he could have talked to as the P's grew closer. Weasley though was still glaring at him, Malfoy was ignoring him, and everyone else shot timid glances at him before cringing away when he caught them as if he would kill them for it.

"Potter...Harry," McGonagall announced, her voice hanging on his name more than it did the others as she took a pronounced breath before announcing his first name.

This made him feel even worse has he had been hoping with the monotony and repetition that by the time she reached his name it might just be shuffled into the mix, unnoticed by most.

However her change of tone and beat had ensured beyond a doubt that it wouldn't be.

Whispers immediately broke out amongst the hall. Harry could feel everyone's eyes on him as he stepped up, walking over to the stool and taking a seat.

He looked up at McGonagall, he wasn't sure what for, maybe hoping for some guidance. But with an unreadable expression, all she did was place the hat over his head, and his sight was filled with black as it covered his eyes.

_'Hmm...both very difficult you're parents were to sort.' _Harry waited, the same excitement he always felt when they were mentioned coursing through him.

'_You are certainly their son. Although more like her than him, but James is definitely _ a _part of you...but where to put you?'_

Harry sighed, a little disappointed to realize the hat was probably done talking about his parents.

_'You are brave, there is no doubt about that. But you do have a certain cunning, an independent streak and a desire...a thirst to prove yourself. You want to show them you are worthy, that you do belong in this world after-all. So many Slytherins I have sorted have felt that way. _

_ But yet there is a nobility in your heart that is rare for this generation. A strong sense to do what is right no matter what else—a mostly Gryffindor trait, although found in every house in certain students; and lacking in many Gryffindors for that matter. You could truly go to either Gryffindor or Slytherin,' _The hat commented as if to itself.

Harry wasn't sure which he wanted, it seemed the students liked him in neither and he had had a parent in both. He decided to just leave it up to the hat.

_'Hmm, all very difficult...but I know where you'll be the strongest You won't understand in a few years...you'll think this decision made things harder for you, but it will make you stronger. _

_And you Harry, to carry your destiny, will have to be strong.'_

Harry was a bit startled by that, he wasn't sure, but he had a feeling that the hat didn't often address students that way.

_'It is a necessary burden I'm afraid...'_

Harry waited.

"SLYTHERIN."

The hall was silent, no one clapped or even made a move. Harry walked to his table, very aware of everyone's stares on him as more whispering broke out. He sat at the end, away from his classmates who all gave him appraising looks filled with distrust, sometimes even fear and a few of them even hatred.

The rest of the hall wasn't much different.

He didn't eat very much for dinner that night, and tried to stay in the background as they made their way to the dormitories but it was impossible.

He hadn't been imagining those looks at dinner, he could tell that some of the students feared him, all of them distrusted him, and many hated him.

He was trying to flee to the boy's first year dormitories when an older boy, a seventh year by the looks of him, grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wall.

"That's for my father. It's because of you...because of you that he's in Azkaban...you shouldn't even be in here! You're nothing special, it was fluke that night! You're not even pure blooded!" He growled, still holding the robes so that they were choking Harry. His head hurt from being slammed against the wall and he felt disoriented.

The seventh year finally released him, stepping back with a sneer. "Watch your back this year Potter," he warned as he walked away, kicking Harry in the stomach before he did so.

Despite the aching pain and being completely winded from the kick, Harry was quickly on his feet. He was used to that treatment, it had happened all the time in Little Whinging, and he could always recover quickly from it.

Classes were lonely. He never raised his hands to answer questions or did anything else to draw attention to himself. Although he did study diligently, it wasn't as if he had any friends to distract him from doing so.

Remus had told him to try hard in school. Well not exactly, he hadn't said those words, but he had told Harry that he didn't think Voldemort was really gone. And Harry knew, that that meant the he would have to be prepared someday, and the best place to do that at the moment, was in school.

He spent a lot of time in the library. He found he like to read without Dudley chasing him and ruining the books. But what he liked most of all about the library wasn't the books, it was the quiet, peaceful atmosphere, that his tormentors, whether Slytherin, Gryffindor or any-house, wouldn't follow him in. They couldn't bother him with the librarian swooping down constantly if the slightest noise was made. And so he found, he liked the library, in fact he liked it very much.

A Ravenclaw, Hermione Granger, did too although she never spoke to him much. She was nice though when she did even though she always seemed just a tad fearful of him, as if at any moment he was going to transform from a tiny, scrawny eleven year old boy into some kind of force of evil. He did admire her attempts to treat him normally though, even if it was clear she did find his story a little intimidating and was a little worried when she was around him.

He felt sorry for her as she was constantly teased by Weasley and his gang. When they weren't messing with Harry that was. But although they would never admit it, they were somewhat afraid of Harry just like Granger was, making Granger a much more frequent target.

Malfoy's taunts had only gotten worse and all of the other first year Slytherin boys had joined in. Most nights Harry found some where else to sleep, it just wasn't safe enough in the dormitory for him. It seemed his Slytherin roommates fear, had worn off, and it had worn off very quickly. Once they saw Malfoy able to make his life hell with no punishment, they were quick to join in. Apparently, Harry had learned, the fall of Voldemort had put many of their parents in jail, debt or bad placing in society. And although he had been a baby at the time, they certainly held him responsible.

The very first day of school had been the worst. The potions master Snape, was supposedly extremely biased in favor of Slytherin and always treated his students as if they could do no wrong. At least that was what everyone said. It seemed that didn't apply to Harry.

He humiliated Harry the entire class period to the point that Harry found he couldn't brew his potion that day at all, he couldn't concentrate over the professor's taunts. Of course his failed potion just gave Snape more to scold him about.

It had been miserable and the following potions lessons hadn't been much better.

He spent a lot of time just wondering around the castle and when the weather permitted, the school grounds. He wasn't safe in his common room, Snape of course would make no move to help him if he reported what his housemates did to him, and any other professor would send him to his head of house.

However if wasn't so bad, he liked getting to see more of the castle, there was so much to see after all. He had learned from a young age to learn to be content without company, and it was serving him well at school. He still felt lonely, but at least he could go for a walk around the lake, or read a book in library—all things he couldn't do at the Dursleys.

And most importantly, he could do magic. That alone for him was a good enough reason to endure.

His wanderings around the castle were teaching him more and more secret passages and way to avoids classmates, he had nearly found a way to go to every class and avoid any other students.

He had also found more rooms he could spend nights in. He would generally rush into his dorm during the afternoon break when usually, no one else was there, and grab what things he would need, before leaving again. He never spent the night there anymore.

The first night hadn't been terrible, but by the second week when people began to realize he wasn't an all powerful dark lord, but just an eleven year old boy...well that was the week he had gone to the hospital with a broken arm. He didn't think Madame Promfrey really believed he had fallen down a flight of stairs, but she hadn't tried to make him confess otherwise. If professors noticed the bruises and the black eyes, they didn't say anything.

Soon he realized, that he couldn't stay there at night anymore.

So he had started finding abandoned rooms all over the castle, and hiding in small spaces he would sleep there, hoping no professor would catch him out after curfew. He was happy for once, that he was so small, it allowed him to fit any many spaces he didn't think any of his classmates would have.

So far he had been lucky although one night he swore Mrs. Norris had looked directly at him.

It was when he was on one of his walks around the castle one evening during dinner, he had eaten quickly earlier before anyone else was there, that he heard them talking.

The door was slightly ajar, and their voices seemed to almost echo slightly, easily heard from just standing near the doorway.

He hadn't intended to eavesdrop really, in fact he had been about to keep walking when he heard his name mentioned.

"To be honest, I'm not sure what to think of him Filius," McGonagall said, her voice a bit short, but then again it seemed to always be that way.

Harry, paused, his breath catching a moment as he stood outside the door to McGonagall's office.

She and Flitwick were both there, sipping on cups of tea and chatting about the term so far. Harry couldn't see this, but he could hear them.

"Albus seems to be very..._wary_ of him," Flitwick commented.

"Hmm," McGonagall said, she didn't seem like she wanted to talk about the subject any more.

"He is so...quiet. It's a little unnerving sometimes. I don't think I've ever heard the boy's voice." Flitwick added.

McGonagall sighed, "It is very..._odd_ I guess you could say, how much he keeps to himself. He always arrives for meals early, before anyone else is there, scarfs down his food and leaves as if there's a bomb that's about to implode in the great hall."

"A bomb?" Flitwick asked, puzzled.

"Never mind," McGonagall waved him off.

"He just leaves in a great hurry was what I was saying," she explained.

"Oh, yes I've noticed that too. He isn't much like James." He added sadly.

"No, not like James at all." McGonagall agreed. Harry felt like they had slapped him, he constantly aspired to be more like his parents and to hear he wasn't like James at all, was horrible.

"I'm sorry Minevra, he was one of your favorite students wasn't he?" Flitwick asked softly.

"I don't have favorites," she answered, her voice a little gruff. "But if I did..." she added softly.

Flitwick nodded in understanding, "He and Black were always such a riot."

McGonagall frowned her expression troubled. "Do you believe it Filius? Some of what they say...about the Potters?"

He glanced over at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'm not sure to be honest Minevra. I never thought Black would do what he did...never. Potter...well he did come from _that _family, and he did marry—a nice seeming girl certainly—but one with many ties to her house. A house that had many of _his _followers in it." He answered delicately.

"Evans was always so bright. A brilliant student, but a little strange as well. That's who the boy reminds me of. She was never like James, she was so quiet...but even then she had friends. She and Susan Prewett were always together." McGonagall answered.

"I don't know if the girl would have become on of _them. _All I knew about her what was that she was smart, a very gifted witch, and yes, she and Prewett were always together. Rather like Potter and Black without the mischief. Do remember the scene it caused when a Prewett was sorted into Slytherin?" Flitwick asked.

"About like the scene when Potter was sorted into Gryffindor," McGonagall commented.

"That was an odd year," he conceded. "Not to mention Black too."

"I never understood why that girl was put into Slytherin, she was muggleborn." McGonagall said, her tone a little confused.

"Slytherin is not entirely about blood," Flitwick commented with a frown. "But many of them do seem to have questionable allegiances," Mcgonagall pointed out sourly.

They were quiet for a while before McGonagall spoke again. "Have you seen the Weasley girl?" she asked.

"The Weasley girl?" Flitwick repeated, confused by the abrupt change in topic.

"Yes, I just..I found it rather odd that they had a girl. There hasn't been one in the Weasley family you know for generations." McGonagall pointed out.

"True yes, but then again, those things do change." Flitwick still seemed to not fully understand where she was going with her new direction.

"I'm just saying, the girl looks rather like the other Prewett and..."

Harry walked away after that figuring they were done talking about his parents.

_Had they been on Voldemort's side?_ He wondered as he stared into the lake, his reflection looking back at him—his father's face and his mother's eyes.

The idea made him sick, but a masochistic side of him began to think more and more about it.

Maybe that's why they had been murdered. They had been working for Voldemort and he had killed them. They must have done something to displease him.

Thoughts were swirling around in his head at a rate that he couldn't stop them. Several things were bothering him. Mainly the possibility that his parents had been death eaters, but he also wondered who Black was? And for that matter, who was Prewett? And why had it been so strange for a Potter to be sorted in Gryffindor?

He buried his head into his hands wishing he had all the answers.

It was while walking back to the castle that he saw Quirrel wandering out of it, a black cloak around him.

Harry didn't like Quirrel, there was just something about him that put him on edge. He had a feeling there was a lot more to the bumbling professor than there seemed to be.

For one, he had thought it very odd that Quirrel had been the one to find the troll, the troll that should have never even been able to get into Hogwarts that Halloween.

Had Hermione Granger not been cajoled to come out of the girl's bathroom and attend the feast by some of her Ravenclaw dorm-mates, the incident may have resulted in a fatality. Of course the realization that his taunts could have led to her death did not deter Weasley. But Harry thought that might be because he had never realized and made the connection of why she had been moping for hours in the very bathroom that the troll was found.

Harry privately just thought that Weasley couldn't accept that a _girl_ beat him in every class. The boy had thoughts towards girl more befitting a six year old, Harry was surprised he hadn't run around shouting about cooties yet.

Quirrel didn't notice him as walked off in the direction of the forrest, muttering to himself the whole way.

"My master...yes master...I will try..." Harry shook his head, convinced he must have heard the man wrong from his hiding spot.

He walked back to the castle deciding that as soon has he reached his room, he would write Remus. They had exchanged several letters since term but now he had a pressing real need to write to him, he needed answers.

He had found a room the previous night, near the Slytherin common room but far enough away it wasn't often disturbed. Even better was that if was hidden behind a portrait of Slytherin and his familiar, a large snake.

Harry who had been walking by the portrait, had been about to pass it when the snake hissed to him.

'_Stop speaker...come here...long time it has been since a speaker has been in theses halls.' _It hissed. Salazar of course never said anything, his portrait never spoke, just merely looked on impassively.

Harry turned, a little startled to look at the green snake that was staring directly at him in the portrait. _'The last speaker never found this room. He was not worthy...but you—you can use it for what purpose it may suit you.' _The snake hissed before the door swung open.

Harry looked at the black hole a little uncertainly before his curiosity got the better of him. As soon as he stepped beyond the threshold, torches lit the room.

It was about the size of two master bedrooms put together, with a large comfortable looking bed in the center and a desk in the corner beside a tall bookshelf that spanned the entire wall and was completely full. A bathroom was behind another door and unlike the cold stone floors of the rest of the school, a rich emerald green carpet was across the entire floor of the room.

It was an absolutely perfect room for him, better than he could have designed himself. After testing that he was able to get into it again, he had decided he was going to move his things there. He hadn't been staying in the dormitories anyway.

It was an hour after exploration that Harry realized where he was, he was in Salazar Slytherins chambers and they hadn't been used in a hundred years.

**Please review.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter.**

**I did inspiration for the Ron/Malfoy confrontation in the entrance hall both from the book store scene in Chamber, and penesieve in OTTP. **

**While reading those again I realized something—the first line we really directly hear Ginny say, is "Leave him alone," when talking to Malfoy. The first line we really hear Lily say, other than the dementors, is "Leave him alone." Just thought it was an interesting coincidence. I know that cannon Lily was considered vivacious but this Lily, since she was in Slytherin, was much quieter and kept to herself more. Being a muggleborn in Slytherin I imagined, in a time when blood tension was growing, was not easy and would have really changed how she acted. In this story her friendship with Snape still fell apart though, in fact it fell apart faster as being in Slytherin she was more privy to what he was doing, and he was forced to treat her terribly in the dorms if he wanted to be accepted by his 'friends.' So their friendship in this AU background fell apart around third year. **

**Good news, one more chapter of first year and then we have second year, and Ginny! **


	6. Impossible Desires

**Chapter Six—Impossible Desires **

Harry's mind was still mulling over what he had overheard months ago from Flitwick and McGonagall. He hadn't asked Remus about it in the letter he had written three days afterward. He'd meant to, he'd planned out what he would write and everything, but when he sat down with the quill he just found the words wouldn't come. Instead his usual report about he was learning and that all was well and good was sent.

Harry thought Remus probably saw through those, he was constantly trying to subtlety express in his letters to tell him anything that was bothering Harry. He suspected Remus wasn't sure how to handle people anymore either after such a long time of keeping to himself, something that actually comforted him a little since after he wasn't good with people either. The Dursleys hadn't allowed much practice.

Still, questions about his family still swirled around his mind to the point he could hardly think of anything else, but yet weeks later he still hadn't asked about it.

Perhaps, he acknowledged, he was just a little afraid of what the answer might be. Thinking that always made him hang his head in shame, a frown gracing his mouth as a feeling of deep disloyalty set in. He knew it was logical to doubt them, but he felt sick every-time he tried to think of his parents as anything less than perfect. Perhaps he'd just clung on to their memories too much during those days with Vernon when they'd been all that sustained him. Either way, he couldn't bring himself to tarnish them, even it might be the truth.

He'd spent the Christmas break at Hogwarts. He'd wanted to go see Remus but unfortunately as Mr. Hardin's private aide, Remus had been out of the country during the break. Mr. Hardin was a very wealthy man, and a man that ran many businesses. He'd traveled to America to manage some company there and Remus had gone with him to manage his affairs as usual.

Mr. Hardin rarely traveled anymore, he was after-all an older man, it had been unfortunate that an uncommon trip had coincided perfectly with the holidays.

Harry had received his present from Remus early that December. It had come the last Friday of school while the other students were still packing to leave to their homes and their families.

He had ordered a book on runes for Remus that looked interesting. He had told Harry he had an interest in the subject during one of their talks at his cottage.

He had been so excited to get his first ever Christmas present that he had rushed into the dorms without a second thought, forgetting that all of the room mates he had taken great pains to avoid aside from the classes he was forced to share with them, would be there.

"Oh—there you are Potter...haven't seen _you_ around much lately," Zabini drawled, a smirk playing on his face.

Harry nodded, not knowing what else to do, and tried to make his way to his bed without another word.

"Not so fast Potter," Malfoy said with the other three boys standing behind him as he blocked Harry's way.

"I—I'm just getting my things and then I'll be going. If you'll excuse me..." Harry replied, desperately wishing they'd just leave him _alone._

Malfoy glanced at the bed seeing the one package wrapped there in green christmas paper.

"Well, looks like Potter actually got a present! Who would have thought. I thought that with his blood traitor father and mudblood mother dead that no one else would even give a—"

Harry struck out clumsily, he hadn't much experience in fighting as he had always been just trying to defend himself. He'd never tried to hit anyone before, but with his fist balled the anger had just been too much and he'd nearly hit Malfoy square in the jaw. His hand would have been broken but it would have been worth it just to shut Malfoy up.

However he hadn't been able to finish the sing after Crabbe had grabbed his arm, Goyle taking the other so that he stood there in-between them.

Harry wasn't just on the small side for his age. He had had years of malnutrition at the Dursleys and as such was more than scrawny like James Potter had been, but was a skinniness that hinted at poor development, although he had greatly improved the summer and past term from being able to eat three meals a day.

He still didn't eat nearly as much as boys his age should. He was also short, although he had gained three inches also from finally being able to eat. He still however, was very undersized for his age.

Against the huge, hulking forms of Crabbe and Goyle who could have passed for fifteen year olds, his struggles did little good.

"Ooh..." Malfoy jeered after he'd recovered from the shock of the attempted swing. "So Potter does have a back bone somewhere it appears." Zabini reached over and grabbed Harry's wand out of his robe pocket, handing it to Malfoy who twirled it around in his fingers.

Harry scowled as Malfoy walked around the bed until he could reach the present.

"Well let's have a look why don't we?" Malfoy said pulling the present toward him and finding the tag.

"_To Harry, from Remus._" He read, a heavy not of condescension in his voice. He looked over at Harry and his face began to light up with recognition.

"Remus...Remus _Lupin_—the _werewolf_." The boys all started laughing.

"Really keep high company do you Potter," Malfoy sneered earning another chuckle from Zabini.

He tore into the wrapping, "Let's see what it is. Doubt the filthy half breed could afford much."

A red leather book fell out, on the front there was a picture of a man and a woman and has Harry got a better view his heart immediately lurched as he realized who they were. He recognized them from the few photos Remus had shown him that summer, his mother and father held who he knew must have been himself as a baby as they waved at him from the cover of the book.

Malfoy frowned at it as he began to flip through it casually. An act that made Harry's blood boil, that was _his _book and those were _his_ parents, he should be the one looking through it, not Malfoy.

"Well a fat lot of good this bloody rubbish is, who'd want to see pictures of such fools. They got what they had coming when the Dark Lord visited," Malfoy said smugly when he glanced up at Harry.

Keeping eye contact with Harry the entire time Malfoy raised Harry's wand to the corner of the book, "Incendio." To Harry's relief nothing happened.

"Taken on a bit much there Draco," Zabini taunted. Malfoy's cheeks gained a slight pink tinge. "It's just this _weak _wand," he spat.

"I've done this spell plenty of times—Father taught it to me last year," he added.

"Then do it," Zabini hissed.

Glaring a little, Malfoy turned back towards the book with more determination.

"Please don't! _Please_ just leave it alone!" Harry shouted desperately but they all ignored him.

On Malfoy's third attempt it burst into flames, the paper burning easily and quickly. Harry struggled hard to reach it but with Crabbe and Goyle all of his efforts were fruitless.

In a few moments the book was burned, the cover quickly too growing black and curling at the edges as it turned to ash.

Harry could do nothing but watch it. He hadn't even gotten to look at it once.

Crabbe and Goyle pushed him to the floor ruffly as Malfoy tossed his wand to the corner of the room.

They walked out laughed and Malfoy called back over his shoulder, "I hope you enjoyed your present Potter!"

Feeling weaker than ever, Harry had gathered up all the rest of his things, including the wand that had been tossed to the corner by Malfoy, and moved them into Slytherin's chambers. He'd found a passage that led from the common room into them, which he didn't think he would get much use of but still thought it was useful to know.

He felt ashamed. He was so tired of being bullied. Bullied by Vernon, bullied by Dudley, bullied by the other children at primary school, bullied by the Gryffindors, bullied by Snape, most of all bullied by his house mates, and it seemed, bullied by the entire wizarding world. Or at least hated by it.

He hated being held like that, forced to be somewhere, to do something. He was tired of people being able to do that but as he looked at his small stature in the mirror he thought bitterly that that wasn't likely to change anytime soon.

He walked around the castle again, not able to quiet his mind enough to stay still so instead he went on one of his long walks around the corridors. He was starting to know the school amazingly well.

He had been walking aimlessly when he heard footsteps. Quickly deciding that he especially didn't want to see anyone, he dodged into the empty classroom he was passing.

The person passed right by the door and Harry felt a sigh of relief.

He opened his eyes and looked around the room, noticing with a strange feeling, a large object in the corner covered by a white cloth. Or what once had been white, it was now so laden with dust and age it had faded into more of a light grey.

Compelled and overly curious Harry walked forward until he stood in front of it's tall form that almost reached the ceiling. He had a strange anticipation deep within himself as he reached up, his fingers tracing the cover before he finally, fisted it and pulled several times until it came billowing down to reach his feet.

When he looked up he saw, to his disappointment, just a mirror. Sighing he picked back up the cover, wondering how he would ever get it back in place, when he noticed something.

He squinted in concentration as he looked closer at the mirror, his eyebrows furrowing.

What he saw made his hands go limp in surprise, sending the cover once again to the ground.

His reflection was not alone in the mirror. Standing on either side of him were two adults, one a beautiful woman with long dark red hair and the other a man with the same messy black hair that Harry had. The man was not as handsome as the woman was beautiful, but he did have a charm about him that seemed to enhance the looks he did have as he grinned back at her.

Both of them beamed at Harry after sharing a look with each other. They seemed so in love and when they reached up to put a hand on both Harry's shoulders, Harry jumped. He was startled as he looked for their hands and realized that he didn't feel anything.

He looked back up at the mirror, transfixed by the acceptance in their eyes when they looked at him. The woman had green eyes that were a mirror of his and the man looked so similar everywhere but the eyes, although his older face was much more filled out and masculine than Harry's had yet to become.

Harry sat on the ground, still staring at the mirror, at his _parents_. They hadn't been lost in Malfoy's stupid stunt after all, they were there, just waiting for him to find him here in this room.

He slept curled up beside the mirror that night, unable to tear himself away from them.

The next morning he went to change and freshen up, but after a hurried breakfast he returned to the mirror to stare at it again.

It made him feel happy, at least on some level, to see that expression of love and complete acceptance he had never seen directed at him, in the mirror.

But it also left him with a terrible ache all the hours he looked at it. For as much as he tried to ignore it and just watch their faces, he knew when he turned around that they wouldn't be there. That it was just an image of what could never happen.

It was on the third night, as he sat looking up at them, some tears streaming down his face, that he sensed another presence.

He looked around wildly, not sure how he knew but certain there was someone else in the room.

"Very keen observation Harry," a voice remarked kindly from the corner.

Professor Dumbledore stood there, watching him with a burning curiosity and, underneath it all, a deep sympathy.

Harry sprung to his feet and embarrassedly wiped his tears away, blushing at having cried in front of the headmaster.

"S—sorry Headmaster?" he asked, not understanding the last comment.

"You knew I was here before I revealed myself," Dumbledore explained softly.

"Oh...yeah...I just—I just felt like someone else was here," Harry explained lamely, blushing again at how stupid it had sounded.

"Those are good instincts Harry. They may serve you well in the future," Dumbledore said. Harry was thankful he seemed to ignore Harry's own poor explanation.

"I see you have found the mirror of Erised," he commented, his tone still light although there seemed to be an undercurrent to it.

"Erised sir?" Harry asked curiously.

"I'm sure by now you've figured out what it does?" Dumbledore asked, regarding Harry over his half moon shaped spectacles.

"It—It shows you what you want...what you want but can never have?" Harry asked sadly.

Dumbledore sighed, "Not exactly but yes Harry, very close. It shows your deepest desire. It doesn't necessarily have to be unattainable," he replied, giving Harry a sad glance before continuing.

"The mirror will be moving to a new home tomorrow. I ask that you do not go looking for it again Harry, it brings neither happiness nor prosperity and many witches and wizards have wasted away in front of it."

Harry nodded, standing up and walking towards the door. "I won't sir," he promised.

Dumbledore nodded and watched the boy leave. Unable to stop himself he stepped in front of the mirror for what he told himself was just one last time.

Looking back at him was a healthy, strong Ariana that had never gotten to thrive in reality, robbed of that potential by the cruel acts by young muggle boys. Beside her stood Aberforth who had an arm slung around Albus's shoulders, sharing a brotherly smile and a closeness they had never shared in life. And on his other side was someone who had never even came close to existing, Gillert Grindelwald stood beside Albus, his hand holding one of Albus's as he smiled too.

He wasn't the Grindelwald though that had actually been. There was a kindness in his eyes, a generosity in his mouth and a humbleness in his brow that had been absent in reality's Gillert.

Albus closed his eyes, the image that had so long been burned into his mind floating once again at the forefront. With one last look of regret, he turned and left quickly.

He felt deeply saddened by what he had seen of Harry Potter. He too could relate to seeing impossible things in the mirror.

But it still didn't change anything, he reminded himself. The boy had to follow the plan. It was imperative that Voldemort be defeated and Harry was the child of the prophecy.

He still worried that the boy might go dark, it was a fear that plagued his every waking hour and many unconscious ones. He had felt the boy's aura and knew that his power was on a tremendous scale, one that could rival his own and Voldemorts. One that could burn the whole world down if it wasn't used for the_ right_ purposes.

Dumbledore went to sleep that night feeling as always, anxious about Harry Potter and fearful of the future. However the last image that passed before his eyes as he fell asleep wasn't one of Harry Potter surrounded by followers has he rose to replace Voldemort, but Ariana's pale, stricken face as her corpse lay cold on the floor.

Harry immersed himself in his books for the rest of the break. He couldn't bring himself to explain the incident to Remus so instead he just sent back a letter thanking him profusely. Remus sent back his usual few sentences of reply, this time thanking Harry for the book over Runes.

There was still an air of awkwardness in their communication. He wanted to be close to Remus and he was pretty sure that Remus wanted to be close to him. But they weren't.

It still bothered Harry that Remus had never come to check on him all those years at the Dursleys.

Harry was walking around the lake when he ran he saw the half giant that had led them to boats the first night of school.

He had been about to walk away before he could be noticed when he heard the huge man yell to him, "Harry...Harry Potter!"

His tone was friendly and he seemed happy to see him. Harry turned, staring a little uncertainly as he stood there.

The giant approached him, eyes shining kindly from above his grizzly beard.

"I've been hopin' to talk to yeh this year," he said by way of greeting.

"...Me?" Harry asked perplexed, looking around him for good measure in case the man was talking to someone else.

"Yeh," the giant said in agreement.

Harry swallowed a little nervously as looked up the man.

"Er...what...um—what is it that you were..." he trailed off again unsure how to phrase the question.

"I knew yeh parents Harry, mos'ly yeh Dad but yeh Mum too later." Hagrid explained.

"Really?" Harry asked, his interest successfully captured.

"Yeah, would yeh—would yeh like to come have some tea?" Hagrid asked.

"Sure!" Harry agreed, enthusiastic at the chance to talk to someone who might understand.

He followed Hagrid to his hut by the woods, somewhat alarmed by the creatures in and around it but valiantly masking his discomfort.

Hagrid told him stories, mostly of James who he had known well during James's school years. He had gotten to know Lily until she was older and married to James, but he did say she always seemed to be the 'right sort when she was in school, even if she was a Slytherin.' Of course at that point he had immediately broken into a stammering apology when he remembered he was sitting beside a Slytherin.

"That's alright Hagrid, don't worry about it." Harry waved him off.

"Who was the friend you keep saying—with Dad and Remus?" Harry asked.

The giants face darkened, "I think tha' is a better question for Dumbledore, Harry."

Harry scowled at the mention of Dumbledore, still sore over their confrontation in the summer. Noticing this Hagrid reproached him, "Now Harry, Dumbledores a great man, don' let those housemates of yours say any different."

"It's not my house mates," Harry replied.

"No?" Hagrid asked.

Looking up at him again Harry realized he would have to give an explanation.

"He came to visit—this summer and...he wasn't going to let me stay with Remus. He wanted to send me back to my aunt and uncle," from the bitter tone he said it in Hagrid was able to gather that his aunt and uncle were not loving guardians.

He thought a long time before replying, "I always liked Remus...but Dumbledore, he gave me a second chance when no one would. Don', just don' make up yeh're mind quite yet abou' him."

Harry gave him a dubious look that Hagrid ignored and a long silence stretched between them as Harry tried to gather the courage to ask what he wanted to.

"Were my parents—what side were they on?" Harry asked in a small voice.

Hagrid looked troubled, "They...they weren' part of the figh' agains' _him_."

Harry bowed his head, "So did they work for Voldemort?"

Hagrid reeled back, "_Don' say his name_!" He hissed.

"Sorry," Harry replied sheepishly.

Hagrid softened, "It's alrigh', I don' think they were in with _him. _James would never have done tha'."

"But my Mum would have?" Harry asked.

"I...I don' know Harry...I never knew her tha' well." Harry nodded and Hagrid sensing his discomfort quickly changed the subject.

It was an hour into their talk that Hagrid realized the time and rushed to take care of something in the hut. Harry had gotten up to excuse himself when he saw what Hagrid was handling at the stove.

"Hagrid! Is that a dragon's egg?" He asked, shocked to see something matching the illustration in _Most Magical Beasts _so exactly.

Hagrid looked guiltily at Harry, "Don' tell anyone." He tried to say it like a statement but it came out in a pleading tone.

"No...of course not," Harry said as he stepped closer and looked at the thing.

"I always wanted one," Hagrid added excitedly. "Ain't she beautiful?"

"Sure..." Harry replied uncertainly.

"How did you get that exactly?" Harry asked, knowing that Dragon eggs weren't exactly found in your every day pet store.

"I at the pub an'..." Hagrid launched into the tale.

"Wait—you were at a pub, and a stranger, who's face you never saw, just happens to have a dragon egg; something you've always wanted?" Harry asked doubtfully.

"Well...yeah." Hagrid shrugged.

"And this 'Fluffy' he's guarding something in the castle?" Harry asked.

Hagrid shook his finger at him, "Now Harry, tha's between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel, don' you go gettin' involved."

Harry nodded, pretending to look abashed while meanwhile he was really just assigning the name _Nicholas Flamel _to memory.

'_...most famous for his founding of the Philospher's Stone. He also aided Albus Dumbleodre..." _Harry quit reading, staring up at the ceiling in his chamber for a moment. Slytherin chambers had a ceiling that was, like the great hall, enchanted to look like the night sky even if it was deep in the dungeons.

"No...surely not...they wouldn't hide something so dangerous in a school full of kids..." Harry trailed off doubtfully as he muttered to himself.

He thought back to Halloween. Quirrel had certainly been quick to disappear after the troll was in the school.

No troll could get into Hogwarts by itself, it had to have been a ruse.

He sprung out of his bed ready to go tell someone his discovery when he stopped dead in his tracks. _Who would he possibly tell?_

He had no friends except Hagrid who would just deny it, he trusted Dumbledore far too much. All of the professors distrusted him, and he had a significant hunch that the headmaster also shared the same distrust. No one would believe him.

And honestly, _why? _Why should he try so hard to help these people who clearly didn't care for him. If they had been stupid enough to bring the stone into the school then so be it, let the greedy teacher steal it from under their noses. _Serves them right for their stupidity, _Harry thought angrily.

Putting away the book Harry went to sleep that night, not worrying about Quirrel anymore. He figured that if Dumbledore was really that great, then he could deal with it.

**Remember, Harry doesn't know that Voldemort is involved, he thinks it's just Quirrel wanting to be rich and live forever. **

**Please Review.**

**I know I said that this would be the last first year chapter, but it just felt stuffed in there in one chapter so I split it into two. Next chapter will be however the absolutely last first year chapter. **


	7. Their Son

**Chapter Seven—Their Son **

Harry had had enough.

After months of wondering and obsessing over it he finally decided he needed to know the answer. He needed to write Remus.

Hagrid, as much as Harry had come to appreciate him in the months that had passed since his first cup of tea with him, just couldn't give him the answers he needed. While Harry treasured actually having someone to talk to and someone that genuinely seemed to like him—Hagrid just hadn't known his father that well after James graduated and had never known his mother well. Remus was the only one that Harry knew could answer his questions. Whether he would do so honestly was the thing that worried him.

Harry wrote the letter that afternoon during History of Magic. He had really, earnestly tried the first ever lesson to listen to Binns. However after finding himself asleep when the class was dismissed he had decided to merely read his text book for what he needed in history and use the class time to do other homework. Which lately had served him well, with year end exams only two weeks away the first years had had more homework than ever.

And so that night he found Hedwig and sent it off, hoping that what ever the answer was it would give him some peace of mind.

A Saturday two weeks later he was eating breakfast when he noticed the absence of the headmaster. Dumbledore was always at the high table every meal and that morning it was hard to miss the lack of his long silver beard.

The rumor was that he'd been called into the ICW (International Confederation of Wizards) headquarters in the states for some matter. He was after all one of the leading figures in wizarding Britain.

It was later that same day when Harry was sitting in the great hall for lunch when Remus's reply arrived with the afternoon mail. The envelope was thicker than usual and Harry knew that a much longer letter awaited him there than the standard four sentence reply about the weather.

Forgetting his meal he quickly gathered his thing and left to go read it in a private place.

He had been making his way back to his chambers, taking a long route to avoid his classmates, when he heard it.

The door was slightly ajar and walking so close to the wall it was easy for Harry to make out the indistinguishable muttering.

Despite the fact that the last time he had eavesdropped, in a scarily similar situation, had given him such anxiety, he found that once again he couldn't stop himself. Ignoring the stinging Harry frequently experienced in his scar around Quirrel, Harry crouched by the doorway.

"Yes master...we will have it tonight, the old fool took the bait and is halfway to New York by now," Quirrel's voice announced. Crouching by the door Harry was startled to note that it wasn't Quirrel's usual voice that said it, but a voice without the slightest tremor or stutter.

"_This had better not fail Quirrel,_" another voice hissed. The quality of the voice seemed eerily familiar to Harry but it made his blood run cold. He knew that voice could not mean anything good.

"No, of course not master. I live to serve you—this will work," Quirrel replied, trying desperately, Harry could tell, to sound confident.

"_Tonight then...tonight I will rise again."_

"Of course my lord."

With his heart racing and an inexplicable feeling of fear coursing through his veins Harry quickly left, breaking into a spring as soon as he felt safe that his footsteps would not be heard.

He wasn't sure who had been in the room with Quirrel but some deep instinct inside of him told him that they couldn't possibly be good.

He paced around his room for an hour trying to decide what to do. A large part of him, the part he dubbed most logical, insisted that nothing had changed.

So what Quirrel had some other co-conspirator? Why should he be bothered with it? Leave it up to Dumbledore, he thought firmly.

However small though, there was a part of him that felt uneasy about that. A small part of him that told him that other voice was more sinister than he could possibly imagine.

_I'll write him a letter_. Harry decided, he knew writing the letter would take ages to reach Dumbledore, well beyond that night, but he decided that was at least doing something and then maybe he would be able to put it out of his mind.

Sitting down with some parchment he stared at it for a moment unsure of what to put.

How exactly did you tell someone that a member of their trusted staff was in fact trying to steal from you a precious, irreplaceable magical artifact?

'_Dear Headmaster,' _he wrote, pausing to gather his thoughts.

_I know that there is something in the school that is being guarded on the third floor. _

He decided not to even mention that he knew what it was, that would just too much and he didn't want to get Hagrid in trouble.

_I over heard Professor Quirrel today talking to someone else and he admitted that he was going to attempt to steal it tonight. _

_Thought you should know,_

_Harry Potter_

Reading over it again it was all Harry could do not to grimace. _'Thought you should know,'_ ugh. It sounded awful. No one would believe such a pathetic correspondence.

Sighing he moved on to his letter to Remus writing it much quicker and easier.

_Remus,_

_I know the Philosopher's Stone is in the school. I'm not going to get into how I know, but I do. Professor Quirrel the defense against the dark arts teacher is going to try to steal it tonight. I wrote Dumbledore too but he got called in the ICW in America so I'm not sure how much that will help. I will try to tell McGonagall but I don't think she'll believe me. _

_Please tell someone or do anything you think might help._

_Harry_

Wrapping both scrolls up he jogged to the owlery and sent Remus's letter with Hedwig and the other with a large brown owl that he thought should at least be somewhat fast. The whole time he reflected on the fact that while he loved Hedwig, the whole owl affair really was ridiculous compared to telephones.

He then made his way down to McGonagalls office. He wasn't sure how to approach her, from he could tell she didn't seem to like him very much which made him all the more doubtful she would listen to his theory, which he admitted did sound pretty far fetched.

He raised a hand to knock on the door deciding to just get on with it instead of standing there thinking about it.

"Come in," she invited. He opened the door and walked in to see her siting at her desk with an enormous stack of essays to grade that she was currently working on.

"Potter," she said, meaning it to be in acknowledgement although her voice was somewhat questioning.

"Professor McGonagall," he replied. Harry was entirely uncertain how to approach her about it.

She arched an eyebrow, "What is it you're here for Potter?"

"Well..." Harry began before deciding just to throw caution to the winds.

"Someone is going to try to steal the Philosopher's Stone," he blurted out.

Whatever McGonagall had been expecting it clearly hadn't been that has the quill she had been holding dropped out of her hand and clattered down to the floor. She made no move to pick it up while she stared at Harry in shock and suspicion.

"I don't know how you knew that Potter, but rest well assured, the stone is _very _well protected," she finally said after a moment.

"But Professor—" Harry began.

"Potter if you have any other concerns I suggest you take them up with Professor Snape, he is your head of house after all," she replied briskly.

He stood a little gobsmacked still at how completely she had ignored him. He could not say he had expected a warm reception but this was more than he'd thought.

She looked back up at him, "Good day Potter."

He didn't budge, "But Professor—"

"Stop making up stories," she snapped, her hands clenching on the desk.

Feeling furious Harry turned on his heel and marched out of the room.

He walked away feeling dejected, if there was one person he knew would scorn anything he had to say, it was his head of house. Going to Snape was not an option.

He was still fuming when he ran into Hagrid on the grounds.

"Hullo Harry," Hagrid greeted with his usual amiableness.

Harry's head shot up as he was startled out of his internal monologue that featured very unsavory things about McGonagall.

"Hagrid!" he almost shouted in relief that he did have one ally that he had previously forgotten. He wasn't sure how much help Hagrid could be in this kind of situation but at least it was someone.

"Yeh look awful troubled Harry," Hagrid said upon walking closer.

"Hagrid you've got to help me," Harry began, looking at him intently.

"Well sure, what's a' matter?" He asked, thinking it was some easily solved school problem.

"Quirrel is going to try to steal the Philosopher's Stone," Harry began deciding it was best just to be blunt.

Hagrid expression changed so quickly through a whole different array of emotions that it would have been comical to watch had the situation not been so serious.

"Now Harry—Professor Quirrel is a Hogwarts Professor. He wouldn't steal it, he helped protect it!"

"_No,"_ Harry moaned. That would merely mean the man would be closer to getting it.

"Hagrid he _is _going to take it! And he's working with someone, I heard them!"

Harry sighed clenching his hands, "Look, I already wrote Dumbledore and Remus but neither of them are here so there's not really a lot they can do! McGonagall doesn't believe me..."

Hagrid looked at him skeptically, "When exactly then is he goin' to try?"

"Tonight." Harry said, letting out a slightly relieved breath that Hagrid at least was willing to give him a chance.

"It's already six Harry? When tonight?"

"I don't know. I just—I don't know. But I know he's going to try. We have to do something Hagrid!" Harry implored.

"Alrigh' I think, I got somethin'," Hagrid said slowly.

"I gotta ter go feed Fluffy anyhow soon...I'll just go tonight. Check on things."

"When?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Later tonight, 'round ten I'd say," Hagrid finished.

"I'll meet you there," Harry agreed, Hagrid began to protest but Harry rushed off before he could get in another word.

Harry couldn't stay still for the next four hours. When he tried he found himself fidgety and unable to concentrate. It was a lucky thing that there was no class that day and he had no homework as he had already finished studying for final exams.

_What if ten was too late?_ He kept asking himself. He reassured himself with the thought that it was very unlikely for Quirrel to try to get it until later that night and ten would probably be perfectly fine. He would go there with Hagrid and he would somehow convince Hagrid to let him keep going.

He wasn't sure how would he do that exactly but he decided he would figure it out when he got there. The other voice had changed everything and suddenly it wasn't just greedy, inept Quirrel looking for a fountain of youth. Every instinct Harry had told him that that other voice was evil.

When ten finally came around Harry used all the skills he had to get around undetected, which were considerable from sneaking food at the Dursleys during desperate days that they had completely cut him off from it, to get to the third floor.

Hagrid was already there standing outside the door.

"I don' like this Harry. I don' like this at all," Hagrid said upon seeing him.

"Glad to see you too," he replied back wryly.

"Now you know tha's not wha'—"

"Are you ready to go in?" Harry asked anxiously.

Shaking his head Hagrid began to open the door.

When Harry made a move to follow him he looked back incredulously. Harry however gave him an incredibly stubborn look and with a shrug of his shoulders Hagrid relented.

He pulled out a small wooden flute upon reaching the second door.

"What's that for?" Harry asked curiously.

"Fluffy finds it soothin', put 'im right to sleep so we can get 'im tha meat," Hagrid explained, gesturing to the large bloody slab of meat hanging from his shoulder.

Harry nodded, too anxious to do much else.

Hagrid began to play has he pulled out an old key and opened the door.

However when they walked in there was already an enchanted harp with a melody spewing out of it and the trap door in the center of the room, besides one of Fluff's many heads, was wide open.

"I don' believe it," Hagrid said, dropping his flute in shock.

Harry would have stopped to have a triumphant moment for being right if the situation hadn't been so dire.

He immediately began to march towards the door when Hagrid grabbed his robes and pulled him back.

"Where do yeh think yeh're goin'?" he asked.

"Hagrid, I have to stop him! I don't know who he's working for but...I just _know_ okay...I know that something bad is going to happen if I don't!"

"Harry yeh're just a kid—"

"So! I was just a baby last time that doesn't stop everyone from thinking I'm evil does it? I don't even remember it..."

He looked up to see an incredibly sympathetic expression on Hagrid's face and pulled himself together. Now was no time for him to mope about his life.

"Look, Dumbledore's not here. It's either now or never." He said grimly.

"Alrigh'," Hagrid conceded and Harry began to walk again towards the trap door.

"But I'm comin' with yeh," the giant added.

Harry looked at him in surprise, a warmth flooding through him at the loyalty Hagrid showed.

"Thanks Hagrid," Harry said softly.

Hagrid nodded gruffly before making his way over to the trap door.

"Will you erm—y'know..._fit?_" Harry asked eyeing the small whole a little doubtfully.

Hagrid gave him a mildly offended look before he threw the meat off of him and into the corner.

"What's down there?" Hagrid asked as they looked at the whole.

Harry gulped looking up at him, "I thought you would know!"

They both looked at one another a little uncomfortably before Hagrid before Harry waived it off. "I suppose we'll find out in a minute," he added wryly.

Sticking one leg in at a time Hagrid had to shimmy to get down the whole. Harry dropped in after him and was surprised to land on something soft and squishy.

"Wha' is this?" Hagrid asked, looking down at the plant. For the first time Harry wished he had spent more time paying attention in Herbology. He stared at the thing as he racked his brain.

Soon however staring wasn't enough as it began to wrap around them.

"Devil's Snar!" Hagrid yelled as the plant began.

"How d'you get rid of it!" Harry shouted back.

"I dunno!"

Harry thought frantically. _Devil's Snar...Devil's Snar..._It sounded so familiar.

_Deadly fun...but will soak in the sun..._

"Fire Hagrid!" Harry yelled before thinking that yelling about it was hardly proactive.

Hagrid apparently felt similar, "Yeh're the one with the wand!"

Struggling to move his wand with the plant wrapping around him Harry was barely able to perform the spell. But he did and it was enough.

They both fell into the floor below, a landing not near as kind as the one from the trap door had been.

Sporting a rather sore bum Harry got up to see what was waiting for them next.

They walked through an arch way into a smaller room that contained hundreds of glittering keys.

Harry looked up at them shrewdly taking into account the broom in the middle of the room.

"I've got to catch it."

"But which one?" Hagrid asked.

Harry walked over to other door, unsurprised to find it locked. He attempted a simple locking spell but knew it wouldn't work. The door was heavily magically enforced.

"It's got to be an old fashioned one, pretty big too," he said looking at the lock.

They both stared up for a moment. "Tha' one maybe?" Hagrid asked.

"No, not big enough," Harry muttered, his eyes still scanning over the hundreds of keys above them.

"That one!" He announced triumphantly pointing at the rusted brown key with the wrinkled wing that fluttered by the corner.

"Look it's even broken from Quirrel using it," he added.

"Can yeh get it?" Hagrid asked.

"Yeah, I think so. I did good in flying lessons."

Harry walked over to the broom and tentatively reached out to touch it. It shocked him when nothing happened.

However that unfortunately didn't last, has soon has he mounted the broom and took off, all the rest of the keys began to swarm around him, blinding him and pecking at his skin.

He tried to bat them away with his hands but it was no avail.

He dove sharply and found temporary relief as they could not follow him completely and he was granted with a second without them to spot the one he was seeking. Pressing himself flat on the broom Harry quickly began the jarring flight to catch the key.

When he grasped it he quickly tossed the key off to Hagrid who opened the door and Harry flew through before it was slammed behind them.

They could hear the hive of keys embedded in it from the other side.

"Well..." Harry panted trying to catch his bread. "Three down..."

Hagrid nodded looking a little troubled by the notion.

They looked up in front of them to see a giant chess board spanning the room.

"Oh no...you don't think we'll have to win do you? To get across..." Harry asked worriedly.

He walked forward questioningly only to be blocked by a row of swords.

"I'm rubbish at chess!" Harry exclaimed defeatedly. "Remus taught me how to play this summer and he beat me every time!"

He looked at Hagrid hopefully.

"I don' know how," the giant said, holding his hands up in apology.

Harry sighed before looking up determinedly. "Well, we'll just have to try. Maybe I can get it done."

They stepped forward and the magic of the room removed a knight and rook from the table.

"We have to _play?_" Harry asked, seeing the open spaces.

"Hagrid take the rook...I guess I'll be the knight."

They both took their spaces. "What do yeh think happens if we loose?" Hagrid asked.

Harry was thankful he said 'we' even though with only Harry calling the shots he knew it would actually be a 'you.' "I dunno," he answered uneasily.

He played for an hour but in the end, despite Harry's best effort, it was a loss.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, ducking underneath a sword that would have, he thought grimly, decapitated him had it hit it's mark.

Hagrid was able to grab one of the pawns and fling it into a few other pieces, smashing them all. But there were still more coming at them and the knight's horses had left their rearing stance to become animated and charge after them.

They ran to the door as quickly as they could and to their horror found it closed. Hagrid swung another pawn into the pieces, stopping them for a moment but has he did so he was hit hard in the head with the sword it carried.

Harry rammed his shoulders into the door several times but to no avail.

Hagrid looked stunned and weakened from his hit on the head but Harry turned to him desperately.

"Hagrid! You've got to grab another one! Fling it into the door!" The chess pieces were gaining on them.

Grabbing another pawn, with a grunt Hagrid threw it into the door bringing it crashing down.

They sprinted across the next room with the chess pieces still following them and Harry briefly took notice of the large troll passed out in the center of the room.

Almost tearing the next door of it's hinges, Harry slammed it behind them. "Do yeh think the door will hold 'em?" Hagrid asked worriedly.

But Harry wasn't has concerned with the chess pieces anymore. "I don't think that they'll follow us in here," he said, gesturing to the black fires that now blocked both entrances.

"What is tha'?" Hagrid asked.

"I dunno, but I don't think it's anything good," Harry said. He walked over to the seven containers sitting on the table, taking note of their different sizes and shapes.

He picked up the scroll sitting there and read aloud.

_"Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onwards neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight."_

"It's a puzzle," he exclaimed. Hagrid looked bewildered, "Can yeh solve it?"

Harry nodded, "I think so, just give me a minute."

"Danger before...the black flame...one back and one forward...wine...poison not on ends...left...left side..not the ends..seconds same..." Harry muttered thoughtfully.

He sat there for a few more minutes before he reached out and grabbed two vials, handing one to Hagrid who was sitting on the floor, holding his head where he had been hit.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Oh, yeah...just a'lil dizzy," he answered groggily.

"Here, I think this is it," Harry said handing one of the vials to him.

"Yeh think?" Hagrid asked a little bit alarmed. "Wasn't there poison in some o'those?"

Harry went back over the rhyme in his head trying to be certain in his choice. "That one's it," he answered, more assuredly.

Nodding Hagrid took it, taking a big gulp. He began to get up to follow Harry but Harry held out his hand to motion him to stop.

"No, you drank the one that can take you back. I took the one to go forward," he answered.

"Harry yeh're jus' a kid! Yeh can't go in there by—"

"Hagrid...we don't have a choice. There wasn't enough for you too and you're hurt," Harry said gesturing to his head.

"Harry..." Hagrid said, looking down at him. "I've got to do this Hagrid. I wasn't sure at first but—whatever Quirrel's up to isn't good. I don't know exactly what's going on but I have this feeling and...Look, I've got to do this."

Hagrid surprised Harry by pulling him in for a gruff hug. "Don't ever let no one tell yeh tha' yeh're a bad wizard Harry," He said.

Harry nodded, embarrassed to find some moisture in his eyes. "I'll see you soon," he said, trying to sound self assured as he walked through the flames. He was anything but.

There was a long straight hall leading straight into a rounded end, where a tall mirror sat and in front of it, Quirrel.

Harry forced himself to put one foot in front of the other as he struggled to think of a plan.

"He knew you would come," Quirrel said from in front of the mirror, he hadn't turned around but Harry knew he addressed him.

"Who?" Harry asked, curiously and because he didn't know what else he could do.

Quirrel however ignored his question and continued to study the mirror in front of him before he turned around and began to pace before it.

"But how do I get it out?" He muttered to himself.

"_Use the boy." _That same voice from before hissed and it made Harry's blood run cold as he looked around the room for the other person.

"Potter, come here!" Quirrel commanded, turning to look at Harry.

Harry stepped forward, his hand grasping his wand inside his robes. Quirrel chuckled "Your first year spells won't you help you now boy."

Harry didn't release his grip on his wand though. _"What does he see?"_ The other voice hissed again and Harry was shocked to realize that it was coming from Quirrel.

"Look in the mirror!" Quirrel said, grabbing the back of his robes and pushing him forward. Harry stumbled in front of the mirror and looked into it. He wasn't surprised to see his parents in the mirror again, no stone could change that desire.

"What do you see!" Quirrel growled, pacing around him like a vulture.

Deciding the truth was the only believable thing he could think of, Harry replied honestly. "My parents."

Quirrel sneered at him.

"_Let me talk to him."_

Quirrel hesitated, "My Lord...you are not strong enough..he is just—"

"_You doubt me Quirrel?"_

"No master, of course not," Quirrel replied kneeling to the floor as if before someone.

"_Then do as I say." _The other voice sounded more menacing than ever.

Quirrel reached behind him and slowly began to take off his turban. Harry watched horrified as it peeled off layer by layer before he turned around and showed the back of his head, or where it should have been.

Instead, grotesquely disfigured was another face, with red slits for eyes that were staring right at Harry.

"_Stand aside you silly girl!" _

"_No not Harry...please not Harry..take me instead..."_

Harry blinked, the memory overwhelming him. Green light everywhere and a blinding pain...her voice pleading—it was all playing out before his eyes, the nightmare he had never been able to make sense of.

"Voldemort," he said shakily.

"So we meet again Harry Potter." His voice was raspy but still managed the cold pitch with the hissing quality like a snake.

They just stared at each other for a moment.

"I knew you would come here." Voldemort announced to Harry's surprise.

"Did you really think that I—the greatest wizard in the world—would be foolish enough to announce my plans where anyone walking by could hear through the door?" He sneered at Harry.

"I led you here. I planted the bait and you fell for it spectacularly. I'm afraid Harry that you will pay for it, with your life."

Quirrel snapped his fingers and ropes sprang out of thin air, wrapping themselves around Harry. Harry struggled against them, slightly panicking, but it was to no avail.

"My lord...the mirror..." Quirrel stammered.

"Silence!" Voldemort shrieked.

He thought for a moment, "The old fool showed some wisdom yet. His little _enchantments _may have been something that first year can break, but even Lord Voldemort cannot break the mirror, it will only offer it to those who's deepest desire standing before it is to have it but not use it. I will have to find something else...there are other ways."

"But master..."

Voldemort paid no heed to Quirrel however, he was judging Harry intently again.

"I will give you one choice," he hissed, his red eyes gleaming.

"You can either join me—or join your parents."

"LIAR!" Harry yelled his temper bursting out of him. "You tried to kill me...you tried to kill me! You'll just try again when you run out of use for me!"

"Lord Voldemort rewards those that are most _loyal _to him. Do you want to be Dumbledore's puppet instead boy?"

"I'm no one's puppet."

"Oh but that's where you are wrong. You will never be free, fighting for these people here that despise your very existence. Tell me Harry, why do you fight so hard for these people? People who would throw you to the dementors at the first chance?" He asked.

Harry hesitated, all the torment he had gone through the past year swirling in front of him.

_I hope he isn't found...my children won't be spending time with him...death eater...mudblood mother and your blood traitor father...stop making up stories! _

"Why Harry, why fight for them?" Voldemort asked again.

_Harry if you need anything just shout, alright...You'll be fine Harry... Don't ever let no one tell yeh tha' yeh're a bad wizard Harry...the young girl running with train laughing and crying while her red hair flew behind her...his parent's smiling at him from the mirror..._

Harry realized then that he would never give in to this thing in front of him. He wouldn't do it, and it wouldn't be because of Malfoy or Ronald Weasley or Professor Dumbledore.

He would fight for Mr. Elwin, for Remus, for Hagrid, for all the good people he hadn't met yet and most of all, for his parents—whoever they had been.

"_You killed them!" _He didn't even sound like a boy when he said it, Harry's voice had never been so cold.

"And you'll just kill more," Harry added, defiantly staring him down.

Voldemort gave a humorless laugh, "Oh yes...James and Lily Potter. So much potential but such a _waste. _I offered them both to join me both they were too foolish with their idiotic notions of good and evil. There is only power and those too week to seek it! Still, your mother needn't have died..."

Harry watched him transfixed by what he was saying.

"...she was trying to protect you."

Harry flinched, "But why? Why did you want to kill me?"

"It hardly matters now, you won't leave this chamber alive Potter."

Harry struggled harder against the bindings, have gotten one arm behind him free of them he was trying to get the other.

"Quirrel, kill him."

He wasn't sure what made him do it, but on instinct he charged at Quirrel, using the hand that had broken free to cover his face.

Quirrel began to scream and writhe but Harry kept his hand pressing against him.

"My Lord...I cannot.."

"_Do it you fool!" _

Quirrel came at him again but Harry, now with the other hand also free pushed against him and kept pushing, until the world began to grow black...

When Harry began to gain consciousness he realized slowly that he was not in the chamber with Quirrel. What he was lying on was far too soft for that.

He opened his eyes fully to see Dumbledore sitting beside him.

"You gave us quite a scare Harry," he said mildly.

"The stone?" Harry rasped, sitting up and reaching for a glass of water from the night table beside the bed.

"Taken care of. Nicholas and Perenell decided to have it destroyed, it was no longer safe. They have enough elixir to set their affairs in order."

"They'll die then?"

"They have lived full lives, and death is just the next great adventure Harry," the headmaster explained.

Harry nodded, really not caring less with the massive head ache he had.

"Where's Remus?" He asked.

"Just outside actually, waiting to visit you."

Harry almost blurted out, _'Then why are you in here instead of him,' _but managed to stop himself.

"Can I see him?"

"Well...certainly, I'll send him in." Dumbledore said with a kind smile.

Remus came rushing in, his robes and hair disheveled as if he had not slept at all the previous night.

"Harry!" He cried, much to the boy's embarrassment striding over to the bed and pulling him into a tight hug.

"Er..."

Remus pulled back a little abashed as well. Harry couldn't deny the warmth he had felt though even if it was heavily tampered with embarrassment, no one had ever cared enough to hug him.

"Don't ever do anything like that again," Remus said sternly, with a joking manner although Harry could detect the true amount of worry that was there.

"I'll try to avoid it," he responded a little wryly. Dumbledore was standing in the corner of the room watching on.

They were all startled when the doors went flying open again, slamming against the wall.

"Now Minister I don't believe—"

"There has been a murder here! I do—"

"Now listen here, Harry hadn't done nothin' that yeh—"

"Hem, hem...We are you here on _Ministry business_, it is within—"

Four voices echoed in the hallway before a very flustered looking McGonagall came into the room followed by a scowling Hagrid, and two people Harry did not recognize. A pudgy man with beady eyes who wore a bowler hat and a woman who frankly resembled a toad topped with a large pink ribbon.

"Headmaster, the Minister and Madam Umbridge wish to see you," McGonagall said very, very stiffly.

"There he is—" The minister began pointing at Harry.

Dumbledore however stepped in front of him, "Now Cornelius what is it that seems to be the matter?"

"What—what's the _matter! _There has been a _body_—_a_ _bloody charred corpse_—removed from the school Dumbledore! What do you think is the matter?" The minister spluttered irately.

"It is in our mandate to investigate these matters Headmaster," the toad woman added in a girlish voice.

"And Potter's hand are all over it!" The minister added.

"I can assure you that Harry—" Dumbledore began but Umbrige interrupted him,

"With the circumstances surrounding poor Professor Quirrel's tragic end and that boy's history, and the _company_ he keeps," she added, eyeing Remus and Hagrid with distaste.

"You can understand why we are concerned Headmaster. The boy must stand trial."

"If you do that it will create mass panic in our community I'm afraid." Dumbledore said solemnly.

"Then you admit he is guilty!" The minister exclaimed triumphantly.

"I admit no such thing. But he cannot stand trial on this matter," Dumbledore corrected.

"There are bypasses to such things," Umbridge said shrewdly.

"You aren't suggesting—" Minevra began completely abhorred.

"How dare you—" Remus stood, staring at her in disgust.

"Now yeh listen here yeh bint—"

"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore interrupted.

He closed his eyes before he looked back up at the Minister, "Would you be willing to accept a testimony under veritaserum here privately?"

"I can tell yeh, I was there!" Hagrid protested.

"We don't take testimony from...your _kind_." Umbridge said disgustedly.

Hagrid fumed but Dumbledore laid a light hand on his arm, "While we thank you for your efforts Hagrid, I'm afraid this is necessary. You weren't there after-all in the end chamber."

Hagrid nodded sullenly, taking a step back.

"The veritaserum Cornelius?" Dumbledore questioned again.

"I suppose that would do," Fudge answered stiffly.

"Very well then, Minevra can you please go fetch Severus and tell him to bring some up." She nodded and left the room quickly.

"You keep veritaserum in the school?" The Minister asked rather accusingly.

"Professor Snape enjoys practicing his skills has a potions master," Dumbledore answered lightly.

"He is a minor, he can't take it without the consent of his guardians." Umbridge pointed out icily.

"His guardians are muggle, meaning that while he is at school he is under my jurisdiction and I do consent." Dumbledore combatted.

Harry who had just been sitting in his bed watching all of this play out felt a swell of fury rise up in him. He was sitting right there! They had no right to speak of him like he wasn't even in the room, he wasn't some stupid child to be ignored!

"Consent to what?" he asked petulantly.

"Veritaserum is a colorless, odorless potion Harry." Remus began to explain quietly. "When the drinker takes it they are forced to reveal the truth of any questions they are asked."

"So—anything?" Harry asked horrifiedly.

"Aha, so you do have something to hide boy!" The Minister accused.

Remus turned to give him a cold stare, "I'm sure Minister that you can understand that no human being want's to be examined with something that could force them to reveal _anything, _no matter how private, about their life."

"Who will make sure the questions are just about this?" Harry asked.

"I will." Dumbledore vowed. Harry nodded, he wasn't sure if he trusted Dumbledore, but he damn sure trusted him more than the Minister.

"Dumbledore this is an official investigation—"

"I assure you Minister, I will ask all of the relevant questions and you will be here to witness the entire proceedings."

Minerva re-entered then, carrying one clear vial in her hand and a moody potion's master trailing behind her. Snape eyed Lupin with a hatred that Harry had previously thought was only reserved for him.

She handed the vial to Harry and he took it with one gulp after receiving a re-assuring glance from Remus.

"Harry can you tell me the events of last night please?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Harry had been planning on being honest anyhow, but it was a curious feeling being under veritaserum. The words just flowed out of his mouth with no planning or thought of how or what to say at all.

He saw the regret in McGonagall's eyes has he finished re-telling her refusal to believe him. Remus gave her an angry glare.

At the end, when he finally discovered what was in the chamber beneath Quirrel's turban, everyone seemed shocked and horrified except for Dumbledore who just wore a grim acceptance.

"But—that's impossible!" The Minister spluttered.

"I assure you Cornelius that it is not. Voldemort is still very much alive, just very weakened. This is why I didn't want to take him before the courts, the public would panic to know that he is still out there...and perhaps some of his old followers would flee to aid him." The Minister, Umbridge, Hagrid, and McGonagall all flinched when he said his name.

"All of his followers are in Azkaban." Umbridge dismissed.

Dumbledore looked at her over his half-moon spectacles, "I believe Madam that we all know that that is not true."

McGonagall's legs seemed to give out from under her has she sat back on the bed behind her, her face pale and her expression shaken.

"This is utter rubbish Dumbledore! You can't expect us to believe that He-Who-Must-Not-Be Named was hiding on the back of Quirrel's head!"

McGonagall found her voice again, "He is under Veritaserum Minister, he cannot possibly be lying. This is the truth whether you want to believe it or not!"

He was silent for a moment, "Very well then we shall drop all charges. The official story however will be that Quirrel died in a nasty accidental fire, one that Mr. Potter was _very _fortunate to escape. I will not have this you-know-who business getting out. It is ridiculous!" The minister announced, shaking his head has if that would make it more untrue that not hours ago Voldemort had been in Hogwarts.

"Good-day Albus," he said shortly, leaving the infirmary abruptly with the toad woman at his heals.

OoOoOo

**Harry Potter Already Showing his True Nature?**

**by Rita Skeeter**

**The Wizarding community has been shocked to learn that a murder has **

**taken place right in the heart of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. While it is being labeled an 'accidental death' by the official report, reputable sources have confirmed that Harry Potter, the boy mysteriously involved**

**with the down fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was suspiciously linked**

**to the case. In fact there have been reports that originally he was charged with**

**the murder of Professor Quirinus Quirrell but the charges were dropped after a **

**private visit made by Minister Fudge and Senior UnderSecretary Madame Umbridge. When asked about it the Minister refused to comment. **

**The good Madame Umbridge however did release one statement. "The case is closed and the Minister has seen that it was handled correctly. However I will not deny that Potter's involvement was rather suspicious." **

**Albus Dumbledore however steadfastly retains his conviction of the boy's innocence. "Mr. Potter is in no way responsible for the unfortunate tragedy of Professor Quirrell and I can assure you that all precautions are being taken with the safety of our students here at Hogwarts." **

**So Dear readers that leaves the question of, why is Dumbledore so determined to protect Harry Potter? What exactly is going on at Hogwarts? **

**Speaking to Lucius Malfoy, the head of one of our most ancient families has well has a wonderfully charitable man who has contributed to numerous good-will organizations over the years he told me his opinion. As a member of the board of governors and parents of a fine young boy, Draco, who is attending Hogwarts with Potter, he has a mindful about the happenings that are taking part at Hogwarts. "Potter has always been suspicious. My boy, Draco, tried to befriend him, being the kind hearted child that he is, but Potter would have none of it. The boy spends all of his time by himself and clearly shows contempt for all of his fellow classmates. Then a corpse comes from out of the school and Potter is clearly connected, having been the only person with the Professor at the time of his death and the only answer we get is that it was resolved in a private testimony! This whole situation makes me very uneasy. I worry about the safety of my boy at Hogwarts, being exposed to a child like that." **

**He is not alone in this view, Doris Keller, a mother of two children who will be turning Hogwarts age in the next few years stated, "I just don't know that I feel safe sending my girls to Hogwarts anymore. Clearly Potter is has bad has anyone ever thought, I feel that sending my children to him is merely putting them in harms way. The boy is a killer, what happened to the Professor terrifies me." **

**The body of Quirinus Quirrell wsa charred almost beyond recognition when it was removed from the school. Something that surely only the darkest of magic could accomplish. What we should do has a community to protect our children from such a dark influence at our greatest school is now a pressing concern for many. **

**To continue reading turn to page 6, more information on Quirinius Quirrel "A Life Ended too Soon," turn to page nine, for more...**

Harry quit reading after that.

OoOoOo

"They hate me more now than ever Remus," Harry said sullenly one after noon, the day after school had released.

"These things blow over," Remus said, although he didn't so sure himself.

Harry didn't reply, Remus hadn't seen the horror on the pretty, older Asian girl's face yesterday at the train station when he had handed her the book she had dropped. He hadn't seen Weasley not say one jeering thing to him but just clench his fists has he walked by and he hadn't seen one older Gryffindor spit in his face and yell 'that was for Quirrell.'

"You want to go get some ice cream? Celebrate getting through your first year?" Remus asked trying to lighten the mood.

Harry didn't look enthusiastic about the idea but Remus seemed to excited by it that he shrugged and agreed anyway.

They walked out the door and Remus took Harry by side apparation.

"Are we at the alley near the Leaky?" Harry asked, looking around the familiar abandoned alley way. "I thought you said we were getting ice cream?"

"We are, it's a muggle shop, right across from the Leakey Cauldron actually." Remus explained.

They walked into the brightly lit shop painted with pastel colors splashed against every wall and Harry took a seat after ordering just a simple cone. Remus sat beside him, the smile growing on his face that Harry called the 'ice cream' smile has it seemed to only come out when he was eating it.

"You're doing it again."

"What?" Remus asked amused.

"That goofy expression you seem to get on your face every time you eat ice cream!" Harry exclaimed.

Remus just laughed, "Yeah James used to give me hell about that too. He always joked that it also must be the face I make during se—" Remus broke off, blushing.

"You know you're right, I only do that when I eat ice cream." He continued.

"No you were not saying that! What were you going to say?" Harry asked.

"Nothing. This _is _my ice cream face."

"No—you were saying that my Dad used to say you must also make that face during something." Harry protested, his curiosity only fueled more.

"During Quidditch." Remus supplied.

"You didn't play Quidditch."

"I watched it."

Harry raised an eyebrow skeptically and was about to badger him about it more when his attention was completely stolen.

He gasped and nearly dropped his ice-cream cone.

There she was standing by the front, admiring the different varieties of ice cream there with a small smile on her face. Her hair was shining just like it had been that past September, a bright, fiery red halo of perfect crimson.

She was so pretty even if she did look like she could not have been more than eleven.

"You should go say hello," Remus suggested with a sly grin.

Harry snapped his head back so quickly to him that it hurt his neck. "I dunno what you're talking about," he muttered, blushing quite seriously.

"Oh Harry, I know all about you Potters and you're red heads." Remus said wisely still grinning. "Go talk to her," he urged again.

Taking a deep breath and deciding to act on the undeniable pull he felt towards her, even if it wasn't _like that, _well like what Remus was trying to imply. He had taken the first step toward the girl, when a red headed woman entered the shop. Her hair was much more orange the girl's, in fact it was a shade that reminded him exactly of Ron Weasley.

"There you are! What have I told you about running off!" The woman reprimanded very sharply.

"Sorry Mum I just wanted to—"

"No excuses, we were all so worried about you! Come dear, let's go back to the alley." She said, pulling the girl back out of the door with her.

Harry deflated back in his seat bitterly disappointed. He looked back at Remus to notice a strange expression on his face, like he had seen a ghost.

"She's magical, I—I saw her last year on the platform. Well, she at least knows someone then that goes to Hogwarts..." Harry explained almost has if talking to himself. He desperately hoped the girl was indeed magical and that she would be there the next year.

"She's magical..." Remus replied but it seemed has if he wasn't even really realizing he had said it.

"How—how do you know?" Harry asked, a happy hope that he didn't quite understand, he had never even talked to her after-all, sprang up inside of him.

"...Susan..." Remus was still muttering to himself.

"Remus?" Harry asked.

"I actually took you here for a reason today Harry." Remus said, completely changing topics.

"What?" Harry asked, thrown by the new direction of the conversation.

"You see we are meeting someone today."

"What—why—I mean, who?"

"Well, after everything that..._happened_ this past year at school...well Harry you need training. We're going to train this summer." Remus explained.

"But I had the second highest marks—"

"It's not that Harry, you're a brilliant student. But, you have to be prepared, more prepared than your classmates."

"Oh," Harry said, realizing what it was about. Voldemort, it always led back to him, Harry reflected bitterly.

Still, he thought, the training would be fun and he wanted to learn more magic anyways.

"So you're going to teach me?" Harry asked.

"Yes, well not just me. I have some one else who wrote me about a week ago and actually suggested this, although I was already thinking it, and that person...well I wasn't entirely certain at first but after talking, I think it'll be good."

"Wait," Harry said, a horrible feeling over taking him, "It isn't Snape is it?"

Remus burst out laughing, "No Harry, it isn't Severus."

"Oh, thank Merlin." Harry said, sagging in his chair in relief which prompted more chuckles from Remus.

"So who is it?"

Remus just gestured behind Harry and so he turned around.

"Professor McGonagall?" He asked, his jaw dropping from the shock.

"Yes Potter," she replied a little wryly, the muggle clothes seeming very out of place on her has she took a seat beside Remus.

"But I thought..." He trailed off, he had always been under the impression that McGonagall disliked him, or at least distrusted him.

A severe expression of regret flashed across her face. "Pott—Harry," she began, shocking him with the use of his first name.

"I—I'm so sorry for everything this last year. I was a fool and...I never should have treated you the way I did. I hope you can forgive me?" She asked, looking softer and for a change, actually vulnerable. Harry had never thought he would see the day.

"Of course Professor." Harry replied, equally softly. She gave him a smile and he was shocked again to actually see some tears glistening in her eyes.

"Well," Remus drew his attention back to him, a smile gracing his face that had just enough mischievousness to remind him that the man had once been a Marauder, "I think this is going to be a very _fun _summer."


	8. Lots of Blushing

**PLEASE READ—Okay, many of you asked in the last chapter about the 'Susan' comment by Remus. Yes, that was Ginny at the end of last chapter. No I am not explaining anymore than that. I have dropped a couple hints throughout the story and a few readers have already figured it out, but the significance of what Remus said if you haven't already figured out, you'll just have to wait and see. Hope that clears that up, I promise it will all makes sense eventually. **

**Chapter Eight—Lots of Blushing**

Fred and George's room always looked like a war had recently been fought in it. Between the random patchwork of colors on the wall and the mess of anything and everything covering the floor that made it a feat just to walk through it, the room was definitely interesting as it's inhabitants.

Cleared out in the center was enough space for a cauldron and the three children who sat gathered around it.

"Hand me those lace wing flies will you?" George asked, rubbing his hand on his muggle jeans to get the slime off from the toad eyes.

Ginny reached over to where they sat and handed to them to him. Her bright red hair that was just a couple shades darker and less orange than her brother's, was tied back in a pony tail that reached down just a little past her shoulders. At eleven years old she was still very small. Ginny only stood at a good four inches below the five foot average height for an eleven year old girl. Freckles dusted her nose but compared to her other siblings she was thankful to have very few of them. Something which just a few years ago she had wanted more.

Now though that she was entering the stage where girl's began to care about their appearances, she was finding that she wished more and more for that dark sleek hair and completely uniform skin that some other girl's had.

Everyone told her she was adorable, but Ginny didn't want to be adorable anymore. She wanted to be _pretty. _

She picked at a thread coming loose on her jeans. They had been patched several times and were frayed beyond belief, but she still liked them even if the children in Ottery St. Catchpole made fun of them the few times she had tried to play with them. . Her green shirt which hung loosely on her, there wasn't often things small enough for her in the used shops, was also equally worn. Too many alterations by magic weakened the material too much, so many of Ginny's things were too big for her.

She pushed some hair back behind her ear that had escaped from the messy, high, pony tail she had thrown together that morning while she was still half asleep.

She hated mornings and often ended up wearing mismatched socks, shoes on the wrong feet and backwards shirts from her offhanded attempts to blearily dress herself right after waking up. Her hair, which she nearly always wore up so that it would stay out of her face, was just quickly brushed and thrown back into a hap-hazard bun or pony tail. When it came to fashion, Ginny Weasley was a very simple person, and that was just fine with her.

She had never liked girly things and the dolls she had gotten from well meaning Uncles. She had enjoyed playing with her Mum's make-up from time to time when Molly wasn't looking, but other than that she'd not really shown in any interest in those kind of things girl's often liked. She would have rather been playing Quidditch, if her brother's ever would have let her. The dresses her mother had tried to put her in over the years had resulted in some spectacular tantrums. She hated dresses.

Why her mother couldn't let her have the massacre and forget the dresses, Ginny would never understand. But no, as Molly liked to remind her, make-up was for older girls, and maybe in a couple years she could have it, dresses on the other hand were apparently appropriate for eleven years old. It was a topic they had frequently argued over the past few months after she'd tried to smuggle some Molly's make up into her room.

She was _eleven_ after-all, she thought irritatedly, she deserved to start acting more like a girl...except for the dresses. She didn't want those.

"How much longer?" She asked, a slight note of whining in her voice. Her back was getting rather uncomfortable all hunched over on the floor.

"Patience Gin," Fred muttered, leaning over the cauldron.

"_Ginevra Weasley you get right down here this minute and finish these dishes young lady!" _ Molly's voice rang all the way from the kitchen.

"Coming Mum," Ginny shouted back.

"Damn, I'd hoped she'd forget," she added in a lower voice to the twins.

"Now, now Gin-gin, watch that tongue of yours," Fred said with a grin, wagging his finger at her in mock lecture.

"_After all, you need to learn to appreciate doing things without magic. Learn values_," George added, his voice a high imitation of Molly's.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"What are you three doing in here?" Ron asked suspiciously from the doorway where he had been walking by. He stopped to poke his head in and look at all of them with furrowed eyebrows.

"Nothing to worry about Ronnie," Ginny replied in an overly sweet voice.

He narrowed his eyes at her, "Don't call me that."

"Second year now too big for his old nick name?" She asked smirking.

Ron ignored her, "You better not be making that—"

"Oh relax...it's not you—Percy this year." George re-assured him.

Relief flooded into Ron's face, "Oh...good."

Ron closed the door behind him and came in to sit beside Ginny. "Why am I never—"

"Because you are a terrible liar," Fred interrupted his question.

"I am not!" Ron protested indignantly.

"No, you are." Ginny replied.

"Whatever," he muttered.

"And this is Mum, we can have no weak links." Fred said conspiratorially.

"Sniff out guilt like a blood hound that one," George added.

"Why is Ginny always involved?" He asked.

"Hey!" She squawked, "I'm right here!"

"Because she has that 'I'm an innocent tiny girl, no one suspect me' face that she does. Show him Gin—do the face."

"No," she replied petulantly, still annoyed over Ron's comment.

George waved her off, "Either way she's a better liar than you."

"GINNY WEASLEY—DISHES!"

All four siblings jumped, startled by the shout.

George whistled, adding in a sing-song voice, "_Better_ get _down_ there."

Ginny however, was already trotting down the stairs jumping the last two and using the momentum to slide across the wood floor in the kitchen.

"Yes Mum?" She asked innocently when she reached the counter.

Molly gave her an irritated look, "Young lady, I asked you _fifteen _minutes ago to come finish up the dishes! It's your day to do them. Ron had them yesterday." She reminded sternly.

"Sorry Mum, we were just—er...talking about Hogwarts and I got so excited I forgot," she explained.

Molly's face softened, "Well that's quite alright dear. It is rather exciting, isn't it?" She asked kindly, sharing a smile with her daughter.

"Just get them done now," she added sweetly has she left to go fold some clothes in the sitting room.

Ginny walked over to the sink reflecting that it hadn't been a _complete_ lie. True, it wasn't what had kept her up stairs but she was excited about it. In fact it had become difficult for her to even think about anything else ever since she had gotten her letter. She couldn't really remember Bill leaving, or Charlie much, and while Percy she did remember, she just hadn't been as affected, it wasn't until the twins had left that she had started begging every year to go, even thought she knew she would have to wait until eleven. It had been all her Mum could do the previous year, Ron's first year, to keep her from stowing away on the train.

She was scrubbing one of the larger pots when she saw the edge of a Daily Prophet tucked away behind the already dry pans and pulled it out. Her Mum sometimes hid the paper from her when she deemed it's contents too disturbing for her youngest.

Sometimes Ginny almost thought she was right. The article she had read in June had kept her awake at times. Even then though, she still wanted to know, she couldn't keep being such a little girl _forever_.

She scanned through it noting that there was nothing particularly interesting. She was beginning to wonder why it was her mother had bothered hiding it when she came across what must have prompted her to.

**Murder Suspect Potter Allowed Back at Hogwarts**

**Rita Skeeter**

**Despite tremendous protest from the community, Harry Potter is being allowed back at Hogwarts for this coming school year. The Board of Governors, in a controversial decision Thursday, announced that they could not under the school guidelines prevent Mr. Potter from attending considering he technically committed no violations. Harry Potter was only suspected and never convicted in the murder of Professor Quirinius Quirrell.**

**This brings to question what will be done for the safety of the young wizards and witches across Britain who will be attending school with Mr. Potter this coming year? Albus Dumbledore assures us that the there is no danger. But did he make the same promise to the late Mr. Quirrell?**

**Doris Keller, a mother of two boys, one of which will this year be Hogwarts age, stated, "I only feel safe sending my son to Hogwarts this year because of Albus, if it had been any other headmaster than him, Jeremy would be going to Beaubatons. Dumbledore I know though, will keep a watch on Potter." **

**Doris met with the headmaster several times this summer and Mrs. Keller is rumored to have once been part of the vigilante group The Order of the Pheonix from the first war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.**

**Other parents do not feel as confident the headmaster's ability to monitor the affairs at Hogwarts. Rodger Doth, father of two states that, "It is absolutely abhorrent that they are allowing that Potter boy to attend this year. Clearly Dumbledore has become senile, the boy just got away with murdering that poor Professor as a first year and he expects us to send our children back this year? It is ridiculous." Both of Mr. Doth's daughters will be seeking alternative schooling this year. Lucius Malfoy, a member of the board of governors and one of the many that did vote against Potter's re-admittance cited that...**

Ginny quite reading after that, tucking it back away where it had been hidden behind the pots.

She couldn't believe they had let him back in.

When Ron had come home from school that summer he'd been a little different. Taller of course, and more over patronizing than ever, but that had been expected. No that wasn't what had surprised her, it was the fear she saw in him sometimes when he thought no one was looking.

They had all been a bit quieter after the events of that May. Ginny hadn't really known what had happened. Luna had told her, in one of the few times they had played together, (Molly, while fond of Luna, didn't think Xeno was a good influence) that one of the teachers at Hogwarts had died that month.

Ginny had assumed it had been someone old. A natural death. Her mother certainly wasn't about to let her know otherwise, she was always trying to shield Ginny from any thing real in the world.

It was from Ron that she had found out he was only twenty four, the same age as her brother Bill. Quirinius Quirrel had had his entire life left ahead of him.

It was then from the Daily Prophet she had been forced to nick from her parent's bedroom after _no one_ would tell her what happened, that she'd discovered his death was anything but natural.

_Charred beyond recognition_, had been the report of death cited in the prophet. Then, when it seemed it couldn't be any more sinister, the information came out that Harry Potter had been the only person with him at the time of his death.

It had been labeled an accidental death, but how did someone accidently char themselves to a point beyond recognition? The thought had plagued her all summer like she knew it had everyone else. Everyone knew Potter had done it, and everyone wondered how he'd gotten away with it.

George said he was filthy rich with old pureblood money, he'd probably done like Lucius Malfoy and paid the right people the right price. Ron thought he'd bewitched them.

She thought George's theory was more likely.

He was just a first year, a _first year! _How did he even know the magic to kill someone that brutally? She often thought about how he must have done it. The entire write up on Quirrell's life that had been published in the prophet had outlined what a brilliant student he had been, he had to have been to be a Professor at only twenty four! He'd received twelve N.E. with ten outstanding, not even Bill had done that. Quirinius Quirrell could have done anything.

Ginny just couldn't understand it, she went over and over it in her mind but she just couldn't understand. Harry Potter was the same age as her brother Ron. Her brother Ron who was lovable if a bit annoying at times, who ate far too much with far too little table manners, and who had a somewhat funny fear of spiders that if teased about would make his ears go red. Her brother Ron who she knew would never kill someone.

She could not picture or even hope to understand, no matter how hard she tried, an eleven year old first year student, who was evil enough to murder his Professor.

_Charred beyond recognition..._

She'd had a few nightmares about it.

She hadn't tried to pry anymore information from her brother for months after that. It wasn't until just a couple weeks ago she'd asked Ron what exactly had happened that school year.

It had been while they were waiting on dinner outside after denoming the garden. The twins had wandered off to the village to flirt with some muggle girls and Percy was stowed away in his room like he had been the whole summer.

She had been sitting in the tree that hung over the pond, on the limb that dipped near enough to the water for her to stick her feet in. Ron had been sitting beside her.

"Ron?"

"Yeah," he asked looking over at her, she normally just came out and said whatever was on her mind and he was surprised about how hesitant she was being about whatever it was she wanted to talk about.

"What exactly happened this school year?" Ginny finally asked after a long silence. She stared at him for once without a hint of teasing or smugness of any kind. There was a rare sincerity and solemnity in her expression that wasn't there very often.

"What do y'mean?" He knew what she meant but he didn't want to talk about it. Ginny however no longer was respecting that, she wanted to know.

"With your Professor, what happened?" She didn't need to clarify which Professor, he knew exactly who she was talking about.

"Gin—I don't know. I mean, I wasn't there. No one really knows, well except Potter that is." He said, his voice low.

"But—I mean..." she broke off, sighing frustratedly.

"Did you notice anything last year?"

"No. I mean, I didn't have defense with the Slytherins, but I didn't hear anything about it either."

"What was he like?" She asked.

"Who—Potter?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

She shook her head, "Quirrell."

Ron shrugged, "I mean, I didn't know him well or anything. He wasn't really a good teacher to be honest. And he always smelled like garlic..." Ron scrunched his nose in distaste at the memory.

"He was real timid y'know. He um—stuttered alot. Never said a sentence with a straight voice. I...me and my mates, we used to make fun of him Ginny. We always would make jokes in his class..." Ron trailed off looking away from her.

"I just—I really wish we hadn't." Ginny was alarmed to see a tear rolling down his cheek. Ron never cried. As much as she hated to admit it, he cried even less than she did.

"I wish I had been nicer to him," he continued, swiping angrily at the tear that had spilled out.

"Do you think it makes me a bad person that I don't miss him? He was my professor for a whole year and...I just don't miss him. I'm sad about what happened but..." Ron trailed off.

"I'm sure he...Ron it's..." Ginny stopped unsure of what to say. What could she tell him? The teacher was dead and it wasn't like Ron could ever make amends for whatever behavior he had shown towards him.

"I don't think it makes you a bad person that you don't miss him." She finally said.

"Really?"

"You can't force yourself to feel something for someone just because they died, it's enough that you're sorry for what happened," Ginny said firmly.

Ron nodded and they both were quiet for a moment while they looked over the pond.

"Ginny I know Mum's normally batty and overprotective and all that, but promise me you'll listen to her on that, okay?" Ron asked.

"On what?" She was still thinking about the poor timid Professor who had died too young.

"To stay away from Potter," he replied quietly.

"Oh." She turned to look at him, "Of course Ron, I wasn't about to go seeking a murderer out."

He nodded, letting out a relieved sigh.

"What is he like?" She asked, her curiosity too much.

"Really..._quiet_. He keeps to himself I guess. Just, well, me and my mates teased him some last year, y'know before we knew what—_what he could do_. I really wished we hadn't though. I'm worried about this year, about what he might do. I really hope they don't let him back. I want you to listen to Mum though if they do. Stay away from him. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I can take care of myself," Ginny replied a little coldly, her instinctual response whenever she thought someone was trying to coddle her. She had a particular strong aversion to it bred from being the seventh child and only girl.

"Ginny he killed the Defense Professor. I know you stole the paper and read about what they said about Quirrell too. He might not have been a good teacher but he got twelve N.E.W.T.S! You wouldn't stand a chance against Potter." Ron said, his voice uncharacteristically sharp.

She cringed a little at his tone, a blush rushing in to her cheeks at the stupidity of her words. "I'm sorry, that's not—that's not what I meant, okay? I mean that I'm not stupid, I'll stay away from him." She explained.

He nodded, "Just, don't kid around about this okay Gin?" There was a concern in his eyes she had never seen in her brother before. She could tell that this honestly terrified him. It wasn't some silly fear like the spiders, this was something that made his blood run cold, it did her to.

"I won't." She promised.

Ginny finished washing the dishes, trying to get thought's of Harry Potter out of her mind.

However it seemed they were stuck there.

She remembered the first time she had ever heard about Harry Potter. As a small child she had been able to infer that there had been some kind of great war fought before she was born. She figured out that it had been the reason she would find her mother sometimes standing by the mantel and sobbing over the picture of twin boys and a little girl that looked extremely like herself all gathered around a fourteen year old version of her mother.

No one had ever told her, until she was seven, what exactly the war had been about, who had been in it, or what had ended it.

Until finally her patience had ran out, and Bill who had always helped his siblings grow up when Molly went overboard with her coddling, explained it to her the best he could to a seven year old.

They were sitting upstairs in Ginny's room as Bill tucked her in one night when she finally heard the full story, or at least a summarized part of it, from Bill. Ginny at least got the gist, the nice version of what happened, for no seven year old could be ready to hear the true, whole story and understand the scope of what it _really_ meant.

"So the bad man, he's dead right?"

"Yeah, we think so." Bill answered patiently.

"You _think _so?" A seven year old Ginny asked, suddenly peering out of the window as if You-Know-Who would be looking back at her.

Bill chuckled, "Yeah. He's gone, don't worry about that okay? He'll never hurt anyone again."

"Sure?"

"Sure."

"So what happened to the boy? The boy that he couldn't kill?" Ginny asked.

A troubled look came over Bill's face, clearly a little disturbed at the thought of little Harry Potter, the toddler who'd bested the Dark Lord.

"I don't know really, I mean, he went to live with some of his relatives. Muggles they say," He explained.

"Do people send him thank yous?" She asked innocently.

"Thank yous?"

"Yeah, y'know, for getting rid of the You-Know-Who."

Bill frowned, "I'm afraid it doesn't really work that way Gin. He—well no one could beat You-Know-Who—"

"Not even Dumbledore?" She interrupted.

"—Not even Dumbledore. And then for just a little baby to do it, well, a lot of people say he might be..._dark_. People are worried he will be a bad wizard too."

"Do you think he's going to be a bad wizard? Have you met him?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Well no, I haven't, he's only about Ron's age actually. I don't know if he'll be a bad wizard or not, but he does have a _lot _of power, that can be dangerous Gin."

She turned to him in surprise, "Really?"

"Yeah."

"So will he go to Hogwarts?"

"Maybe, if Dumbledore thinks it's safe," Bill said carefully as if he was weighing his words.

"Well then, I'll just go up to him and say _'Don't be a bad wizard, y'know 'cause it's bad and then no one will like you,' _and then he won't be one." She explained in a matter of fact tone like this was the most simple and obvious explanation ever.

"I hope so Gin, I hope so," Bill chuckled before stretching his arms behind him and letting out a yawn. He ruffled her red hair, "I think I'll go on up to bed—you had your story for the night!" He added on seeing her protesting face.

"Good night Gin, sleep tight," he said on his way out as he flicked the lights off with his wand.

"Night Bill," she muttered sleepily.

Ginny walked upstairs past the very room she had had that conversation in four years ago.

"Are you two done yet?" She asked as she cracked open the door and slipped inside the twin's room.

"Yeah, this is going to be brilliant."

OoOoOo

Of course when September first came, they were running late. Ron had forgotten his books, then George had left behind his entire trunk, and Ginny had to run back for her diary, while Percy became more and more irate as the only sibling who had actually packed in advance.

His temper wasn't helped when his hair began to glow and flash different colors like a muggle disco ball and his nose grew until it reached about a foot away from his face.

"FRED, GEORGE! YOU FIX THIS NOW! DON'T TRY THAT, I KNOW IT WAS YOU!"

"Now Mum, I'm really wounded that you think so little of us—"

"That we would resort to childish pranks against our own brother—"

"On Ginny's first day—"

"It's just insulting," they finished together.

Molly's face was red as she glared at them, her rant just getting started as Ron and Ginny slipped the last of their things in the old blue car.

"Mum we're going to be late!" Ginny called.

"—dare you do that to your brother! None of your sib—" Molly was still distracted as she lecture Fred and George.

"MUM!" Percy finally shouted.

She turned around a little startled, "Yes dear?"

"We're going to be late."

"Oh...heavens! Everyone in the car, right now! There's no time Ron I'll just have to owl it to you!"

They did eventually reach the King's Cross Station and all made it through the barrier in the nick of time.

"I love you sweet heart, have a good year. And remember—" But whatever her mother had been going to say was lost on Ginny as the warning whistle blew and she had to jump on the train.

"Love you Mum!"

"Love you too!" She heard Molly shout and she poked her head out of the window to watch her mother's retreating figure.

She turned to find Ron already walking down the corridor to find a compartment. Unsure what to do she began to follow him.

"Hey Dean, how was your summer?" Ron asked as he entered the compartment.

"Not bad, yours?" A tall dark skinned boy responded.

"Eh, alright. Mum on my case about my grades last year," He laughed.

Ginny snuck in behind him and was about to sit down when the other boy, a shorter one with brown hair and as many freckles as her brother pointed at her and said loudly with a thick irish accent, "Who is this one?"

She opened her mouth to reply, "Gin—"

Ron however beat her to it, "Oh, that's just my little sister."

He was giving her an uncomfortable look that said _'please leave_.'

"Mmm, I don't know that you should sit in here lass, we'll be talking about...y'know, bloke stuff."

Ron looked even more uncomfortable but he chuckled along with the other two. 'You're twelve, you don't have any bloke stuff,' was the retort on the tip of Ginny's tongue but instead she found herself just ducking her head and blushing while she cursed her shyness.

When they finally stopped laughing Ron muttered to her, "Go find another compartment."

He did sent her an apologetic look on her way out.

Although she knew it was perfectly normal for boys to want to ditch their baby sister, she couldn't help but feel a little hurt over the whole thing. Still, Ginny reminded herself, she was going to Hogwarts to hang out with _Ron_. She needed to make friends of her own, this was an opportunity to do that, she thought optimistically.

She peered into the compartment through the windows a little as she went, looking for people that looked about her age.

Finally she found one, there were four girls sitting in it, two of which looked too young to be any older than first years, second years at the most. The other two she thought could have been third or fourth years.

She entered, "Hello...can I—um, sit here?"

There was a long silence after the question before the older looking asian girl responded with a slightly forced smile, "Sure."

Ginny took a seat in the corner. Two of the girls looked alike with their honey blonde hair and blue eyes while one was asian with beautiful dark hair and the other was a strawberry blonde.

"I'm Ginny," she said quietly.

"Cho Chang," the asian girl who had answered her when she had entered responded.

"Marietta Edgecombe," one of the blondes replied.

"I'm Veronica Mason and this is Elizabeth Edgecombe, Marietta's sister," the strawberry blonde replied gesturing to the other honey blonde.

Ginny nodded, offering them a weak smile.

"So what year are you in?" Marietta asked her voice somewhat snotty as she seemed to evaluate Ginny's terribly frayed and patched muggle clothes. Ginny catching her eyes looked down at the holes in her jeans and blushed, for the first time feeling ashamed by her mismatched, worn out wardrobe.

"First."

"Us too," Veronica said gesturing to herself and Elizabeth.

"Cool, what house do you want to be in?" Ginny asked, happy at least to find someone in her year.

"Ravenclaw," it seemed Veronica did all the talking for that pair.

"Cho and Mar are already in it of course," she simpered and Ginny was forcibly reminded of her Great Aunt Muriel.

"Oh...that's neat." She replied.

"What house do you think you'll be in? I mean you are a first year, well..." Cho trailed off and it was clear that she thought with Ginny's size, she couldn't be anything but a first year.

"Yeah, probably Gryffindor, that's where all my family has been." She replied.

"I didn't catch your surname." Marrietta said sharply.

"Weasley," Ginny replied.

"Oh..." Cho commented and it was quiet until Marrietta caught Veronica's eyes and they both started giggling.

"Something funny?" Ginny asked embarrassedly.

"Oh, nothing. It's nothing," Veronica said through her giggles. Ginny nodded feeling that it likely wasn't nothing but decided not to push the issue.

"_Where_ do you get your clothes?" Veronica asked.

"Um, well mostly..." Ginny trailed off not wanting to deliver the truthful answer of 'Real Bargains Second Hand Store.'

"There um—_cute_." Marrietta said, a cruel smirk on her face as she broke out into more giggles.

Ginny flushed and ducked her head wishing that she had just one decent outfit that didn't have a hundred patches on it and that did actually fit her instead of hanging loosely off her frame for being too big.

"My Mum works for the ministry," Marrietta began suddenly.

"My Dad does too," Ginny brightened a little thinking she had finally found something they could relate towards each other on.

"I know, I've heard _all _about him. Works in some Muggle department doesn't he?" She continued.

"Yeah, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts," Ginny replied lightly.

"Cho's Mum works for the MLE," Veronica added.

"Cool," Ginny replied. "Does she work with Amelia Bones?"

"Well obviously, I mean _she _is the head of the MLE," Marrietta sneered with a roll of her eyes.

Ginny blushed while thinking to herself that it really wasn't that obvious, a good five hundred people worked in the MLE and very few of them directly with Amelia Bones.

"My Mum had a friend in the MLE, but he got demoted to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts since that's where they put—Oh...wait, didn't you say that your Dad's in that department?" Veronica asked.

"Yeah," Ginny muttered, embarrassed by what they were insinuating.

"Oh," Marrietta said, breaking out into giggles again.

Ginny stood up abruptly, "I'm—um..." She ended up just leaving the compartment without saying anything. As soon as she shut the door behind her she heard them all break out into raucous laughter. She had never felt so stupid in her life.

There were some tears blurring her vision and she blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. She _hated _crying. It always made her feel weak and pathetic. Her mother told her crying was fine and that everyone needed to do it now and then, she knew Molly was probably right but she still hated it.

When she was very little anytime she would cry Ron and the twins would always tease her mercifully for it, which at the time of course just made her cry more. She rarely cried anymore which just embarrassed her all the more when she did.

She wondered down the corridors wondering where Luna was. Did she miss the train? She hadn't seen her anywhere, but then again she hadn't look through every single compartment.

She finally came to a mercifully empty compartment in the back. She really just wanted to be alone for a while.

Flinging open the door and slamming it shut behind her, Ginny dropped into the seat and laid on her stomach, stretching out her body against the whole bench. Of course her feet didn't even begin to touch the other side with her small stature, but for once she didn't mind her tiny frame as it allowed her to stretch out more.

She buried her head in the cushions and let a couple tears of frustration leak out. She had always imagined that when she got to school she would have a lot friends and it would be the best experience of her life.

It had only been about an hour, but so far this was not the best experience of her life by any accounts. She couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

She buried her face deeper into the cushion muttering to herself as she ranted frustratedly. "Dads better than her Mum anyway...MLE, I'll show her the _MLE_...stuck up...stupid Ravenclaws...so what my clothes aren't new, doesn't mean I'm not just as good as them...I bet they _can't_ play Quidditch...probably cry when they break a nail..."

She continued for another few minutes until she felt a little better, some of her anger let out at the injustice of it all.

She sat up, brushing the tear tracks of her face and reaching back to fix her hair a little from the tangled mess it had become during her ranting to the couch cushion.

She looked up then admiring how big the compartment was until she came to the opposite corner and found..._a person staring at her. _

"_Merlin's beard! _Have you been here the _whole _time!" She shrieked, startled by the appearance of some one else in what she had thought was an empty compartment.

She made a mental note to, in the future, really look closely around the compartment before she proceeded on a mad display of ranting to the seat cushion.

Catching his eyes she blushed brilliantly, party at her stupidity for no noticing another person, largely for him having watcher her act like a mad-woman, and just a little because with his dark locks, she thought he _was_ rather cute. Even if he did apparently have an annoying habit of _not _announcing his presence when someone was having a mental break-down moment.

She glanced up to find him still staring at her as if she was some kind of freak. It was starting to make her feel very self-conscious.

"Say something will you?" She bit out sharply. If he thought she was ugly then _fine_, she thought angrily, it was no reason to stare at her like _that _and not say _anything. _He was just being rude.

He recoiled a little, looking very shy. The image of a cornered bunny that the twins had once trapped rose to mind and made her grin a little to herself. She couldn't deny the similarity in the expression between that poor rabbit and this boy.

Still blushing terribly she decided to take pity on him and speak first. "I'm Gin—ny, Ginny...Weasley." She said quietly, barely getting the words out for how tongue tied she was when she looked up and caught his bright, green eyes.

Her father had always told her not to say anything she didn't mean, and when she did say it like she meant it, with a strong voice. She hated stammering almost as much as she hated crying, and she sourly reflected that not an hour into her school career she had already done both.

"You're a _Weasley?" _He asked.

She scowled at him, first those Ravenclaw girls and now him. Well she didn't care how cute he was, she wasn't going to stand for it.

Face still flushed she started, "You know what, I am so _sick_ of people like _you_—" She pointed her finger at him, "—who think they're better than everyone else just because they have money. Y'know we might not have any money but my family is a—"

He was holding up his hands in surrender, looking honestly frightened.

"Sorry! That's...that's not what I meant." He interrupted.

"Well what _did_ you mean then?" Ginny tried to keep eye contact but couldn't help but blush and look away again when she achieved it.

"I—just...Ron Weasley is your brother then?"

"Yeah, what of it?" She asked, honestly curious with what _Ron _had to do with anything.

"I—well...um—I know him."

"_Okay?" _She asked, raising an eyebrow and forgetting her embarrassment with the boy for a minute as she tried to make sense of his awkward and stumbling explanation. She at least reflected that she wasn't the only one stammering.

"He's just...he kind of—well...he's not always the...sometimes he's not _nice." _The boy finally finished, running a hand nervously over his messy hair as if to flatten it down.

Ginny glared at him. Ron was a prat, but he was _her_ prat brother and she wasn't going to let some stranger, no matter how cute, insult him.

"Maybe you're the one that's not nice," she said snootily before standing up and preparing to dramatically leave the compartment and it's cute but strange boy behind.

It was two steps later when she reached the compartment door that she reflected on it and realized, she had no where else to go.

She paused for a long moment, just standing with her hand on the handle.

She turned back, her hair swinging around her as she did, blushing terribly again she gave him a sheepish smile.

"Well I guess he can be a bit of prat, can't he?" She said, feeling something a bit like betrayal but brushing it off. Besides, it was _Ron_ who had told her to get lost earlier, and it was hardly a lie that he was a prat sometimes.

The other boy seemed to relax tremendously, he must have been expecting her to hex him or something when she turned around she thought wryly.

She sat back where she had been and looked around, trying to avoid eye contact with her companion. She didn't think her cheeks could take anymore blushing, at this rate they would tomato red_ forever. _

"Do you um—play Quidditch?" She asked after a few long, extremely awkward moment of silence. She blushed horribly again when he looked up from his book and stunned her once more with those green eyes.

"I—uh...took flying lessons lessons last year," he said.

"Wait, you're a _second_ year?" Ginny asked and then blushed a little at her rudeness. She couldn't help but be astonished though, he was so small for a second year! He would have been small for a first year, but for a second year he was tiny with his wiry frame and even sitting down she could tell, short height.

Then again she reflected sourly, she was sure that standing he would still be a good three inches taller than her. And while he was wiry, she was still tinier. She hated being _so _small sometimes.

"Um—yes," he answered, seemingly unfazed by her rude tone.

"So you don't follow Quidditch?"

"Um, no. I um, know how to fly but I...er—I never went to any of the Quidditch matches."

"_What?" _Ginny asked, forgetting her thoughts about how small he was and how gorgeous his eyes were for just a moment as she thought horrifiedly about a life without Quidditch.

"You're telling me you don't know anything about Quiditch?" She asked.

"No, I grew up in the muggle world and..."

"So you don't even know how the game works?"

"No," he answered seeming very flustered by her questioning.

"And you didn't go to a _single _match last year?"

"Yeah," he muttered.

"But..._why?" _She asked, looking up at him and this time, still blushing brilliantly, but managing to maintain eye contact.

"I—well I just...didn't want to go sit by myself." He blurted out, blushing as he seemed to realize his slip.

"Why didn't you just sit with your friends?" Ginny asked incredulously.

She noticed the blush on his face get worse as he looked away with an ashamed expression on his face.

"Oh," she said quietly, not sure what to say.

She then thought about it a little more, not a single compartment she had passed had only had one person in it. It was probably why she had not spotted him and assumed it was empty when she walked in.

Yet there he was, all alone.

"Well hey," she started softly, catching his attention as he looked back at her.

"You're going this year right?" She asked, blushing and looking down. "I mean, you can come sit with me because _of course_ I'll be going and—y'know my twins brothers both play beater for Gryffindor—but I'll go to every match not just those and if you want you can sit with me although I do get pretty loud sometimes and I..." She continued her ramble blushing more and more as she went on.

Why had she even said that, she wondered. Of course he wouldn't want to sit with her, she was just a scrawny, freckly first year with tattered clothes and she—

Her thoughts were interrupted by his somewhat breathless, "Sure."

She looked up and was surprised to see his green eyes even brighter. He was looking at her with a somewhat awed face as if she had just created another universe rather than offered to let him sit with her at a Quidditch match.

He gave her an awkward shy smile which sort of resembled a grimace before he ducked his head back in his book with a blush on his cheeks. She would have liked to say made him even cuter but in all honesty his smile, rather than charming, seemed more like some forced gesture that he hadn't practiced enough.

She decided then to try to make him laugh, no one deserved to have _that_ bad of a smile and laughing was the best practice for that.

A few more awkward silent moments passed while Ginny pulled out her Quibbler she had gotten last time she had seen Luna and began to read. The boy was reading some book with a blank cover that looked thick.

They both stole glances at each other every few moments when they thought the other wasn't looking.

Then finally, after a good fifteen minutes of agonizingly awkward silence where Ginny had been desperately trying to think of _something_ to say, he spoke.

"Does—does that cover of the magazine you're reading say that Fudge eats goblins?"

OoOoOo

Ginny almost rolled out of her chair she was laughing so hard. "...And then..." she tried to continue as she struggled for breath from the laughter. "...Then Fred said 'Well you said you wanted a hair cut!"

He too, was laughing, his green eyes crinkling at the sides as he did smile an actual natural one that _did _make him even more cute, Ginny thought with a blush.

They both took a few minutes to catch their breaths, which wasn't helped when Ginny broke out into another round of giggles when she pictured her Mum's face over the incident again.

"We're almost there," he announced, his voice a little breathy too from laughing.

"Yeah, I guess we better change."

He nodded and stepped out to give her a minute while when she was done she let him back in and did the same for him.

She came in to find him in his white shirt, grey sweater vest and black slacks but without his tie and outer robes.

"I thought you said you were done?" She asked curiously, blushing again when he met her eyes.

"I'm not putting on my outer robes 'till later, I get too warm in them," he answered quickly, a little too quickly which made her think he thought of that answer before hand.

She was about to ask him why he didn't just put a cooling charm on them when the train whistle began to blow and thoughts of her imminent sorting wiped it from her mind.

"How _are_ you sorted?" She asked him nervously.

"No one ever told you?"

"Well, Fred said there's a troll involved and Ron said you have to duel the professors, but I don't really believe either of them."

He shook his head, looking strangely happy at the prospect of explaining something to her.

"No, there's just this old hat that they put on you and it...well it _sees_ into your mind and figures out what you're like and sort you." He said simply.

"Oh." Somehow that was far more anti-climatic than Ginny had ever pictured it.

"So what house are you in?" She asked, feeling silly for not having done so before. She couldn't believe she had been talking to him this entire time and not asked him that.

"Oh...well the sorting hat told me that there was no doubt I was brave."

She felt silly for even asking, _of course_ he was a Gryffindor. He was too good to be anything else.

The train lurched to a stop and they were able to slip off without having to jostle through the crowd, or even see another student at all through a sneaky little side door he showed her that was right next to their compartment.

"What if I..." Ginny trailed off unsure of how to say her fears.

He however seemed to understand. "You'll be fine," He said softly, giving her a small smile.

"I know, I'm sure I'll be in Gryffindor, I mean, every Weasley ever has been there and—I just, what it it put's me in _Hufflepuff?" _

He looked at her peculiarly, "What's wrong with Hufflepuff?"

"Are you in Hufflepuff?" She asked, even though she already knew he was in Gryffindor.

"No!" He replied defensively, proving her point.

"See even you agree," she said with a smirk.

"It's just...I know Mum is always saying that there are plenty of great wizards and witches from Hufflepuff and it's a perfectly good house and all that but—I mean come on, it's like the house you go in if you aren't good enough for any of the others!"

He shook his head, "Maybe it's the house you go in if you are smart, brave and cunning."

She looked up at him curiously, "Sure you're not a 'puff?"

He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

The other students were starting to get off the train then and she could hear the giant in the distance yelling, "Firs' years o'er here!"

Before she could think about it she grabbed him into a hug. He was tense at first and awkwardly patted her on the back before he seemed to relax slightly and return it.

Blushing worse than she ever had she stepped away, thinking to herself that he must not have been hugged much in his life with how he reacted to it.

She looked up to see him giving her a small smile and blushing too, which made her feel slightly better about her crimson cheeks.

"I'll see you later yeah?" Ginny asked, feeling strangely vulnerable.

"Yeah," he replied, although she couldn't help but note that his eyes looked a little sad.

She turned her head just a fraction to try to find the half giant her brothers were always talking about.

"Hey, what is your—" But when she turned around he was already gone, not a glimpse of him in the sea of students around her.

"...name?" she finished softly to herself. She couldn't believe she had talked to him for hours and not gotten his name!

She promised herself she would find him as soon as she was sorted. She blushed at the thought of sitting next to him at the Gryffindor table while she tried to get through the crowd to where the other first years were.

She was going to have a lot to tell Tom about that night, Ginny thought.

**Please Review**

**Thanks to Everyone that did Last Chapter. **

**One thing I did want to get across in this Chapter is that, this is not a Weasley Bashing story. The Weasleys all are good people in this story, they're just scared and they are following what they are hearing. It's like the summary says, fear makes good people do bad things. And I wanted to kind of look at it from their perspective, especially with the whole Quirrell thing, they don't know that he was working with Voldemort. They think he was just an innocent, brilliant young man with a desire to teach children. If you thought someone was like that, you'd probably not be happy with the person who was with them at the time of their brutal death either. Especially if that person was already suspected for being kind of shady. So the Weasleys are good people, they just, like the rest of the wizarding world and like McGonagall during Harry's first year, don't know the full situation. **


	9. Not What She Had Thought

**Chapter Nine—Not What She Had Thought **

The Slytherin table hadn't changed much over the summer, Harry thought glumly. It still had the same green banners hanging over it and same cruel pupils sitting under them.

He took his customary seat of solitude he had had the last year and pulled out one of his books to read. He had just gotten into it when a yell interrupted his thoughts.

"Potter, surprised you're not locked up!" Malfoy called across the table. Crabbe and Goyle stupidly laughed while Zabini grinned. Harry turned away, ignoring them. He was not going to tolerate Draco again, he had had enough in his first year.

"Potter, I'm talking to you." Malfoy said, standing up with his lap dogs nipping at his heels to follow him while he headed over to where Harry was sitting.

Harry kept reading _True Defensive Magic_ a gift Minerva had given him for his birthday. He was just turning the page to start chapter nine-teen when it was knocked out of his hands.

"I said _I'm talking to you_," Malfoy tried to sound threatening. It was hard for him to do with his 'aristocratic' (or feminine, as Harry liked to label them) features and his overly groomed hair gelled back the way it was.

"Well," Harry started, his tone bored. "That's too bad, because I'm not listening to you."

He rolled his eyes and summoned his book back to him with a flick of his wand and a muttered, "Accio," under his breath.

Malfoy's cheeks were tinged pink. Harry glanced up to note with amusement that he seemed to be in some kind of shock.

Draco quickly recovered though, "I see that tongue of yours has gotten too daring during the summer, no fears Potter, I'm sure we'll have you cured of that before Christmas."

"Okay then," Harry said nonchalantly, still reading his book.

Draco glanced between his cronies, clearly bewildered by the lack of reaction from Harry.

He puffed out his chest again, determined to get a rise. "Hey Potter, how's that filthy half breed you live with? Heard he adopted you by the muggle system, too low Potter to even live under wizarding laws!"

Malfoy laughed, while Crabbe and the others bobbed their fat heads in agreement.

Harry looked up at them, a little anger on his face but he quickly replaced it with an impassive mask. "Maybe I would use the wizarding laws if they were worth anything, but seeing has they're not...Oh—and my guardian is doing great. In fact, last full moon he told me he dropped by Malfoy Manor," Harry added as if talking about the weather.

"What?"

"Yeah, y'know how it is on full moons. Gets boring seeing the same places every month. Remus—he likes to take trips, see the sights. And with you being the, what did you say last year, '_oldest and purest family in Britain'_, well of course he wanted to visit the old manor, y'know? I wouldn't go on night flights during full moons if I were you though," Harry picked back up his book to hide his grin.

Malfoy looked positively alarmed. "Come off of it Potter," he demanded snootily although he could not hide the fear in his voice.

Harry didn't reply.

"Come on, we have better uses for our time." Malfoy announced, turning back to go sit where they had been.

They were almost out of hearing range when Harry heard Zabini, "The Weasley girls starting this year."

"I'm surprised they had the money to send her out of the hovel," Draco replied and they all laughed again.

"We'll make sure she gets the message though, of where she _really _belongs." Malfoy added threateningly.

Harry's head snapped up and he looked at their retreating backs, he briefly contemplated hexing them but then decided there would be no way to justify it to anyone. He couldn't exactly say, 'They threatened the one person who might be friends with me,' that would just sound disturbing, and he admitted, pathetic.

She'll be fine, he reminded himself. She'll be in Gryffindor and they won't be able to touch her through her layers of brothers, he thought reassuringly. _Neither will you,_ his mind added a little bitterly.

He went back to his book has the hall waited for the sorting to begin.

Minervra came back in, standing at the head of the hall with the sorting hat in hand. She sent a wink at Harry from where she stood by the stool and Harry gave her a small smile in return.

The first years began marching in, their excitement tangible as they admired the ceiling of the great hall with their eyes wide in wonder.

Her hair was hard to miss. She stood there, off to the side a bit from the others, nervously biting her lip and looking around.

She hadn't seen him yet and he was fine with it staying that way. However, luck never seemed to be on Harry's side.

The first years were all whispering nervously about something, even Ginny who seemed to be on the fringe of all the collective groups that had already formed, was involved in the whispering. Whatever it was they were clearly all very worked up about it.

When one of the boys sent a timid glance his way, Harry's stomach dropped. There could only be one topic all the whispering was about.

She was talking to some black haired girl, both of their expressions a little nervous when the other girl's hand rose and she pointed directly at him. His face immediately grew detached and he worked to keep the facade. An air of casual indifference settled over him has he prepared himself for the disappointment he was sure he would find.

He watched has Ginny raised her head, swiveling to look where the other girl had pointed. When she saw him, their eyes made contact and hers widened perceptibly.

She turned back to her new friend and made a few frantic gestures, but the girl just pointed at him once more. He watched while Ginny shook her head has if she was denying it but the other girl, who he was beginning to hate, pointed a third time, and that was the time that Ginny finally just turned away from him, looking towards the Gryffindor table instead, her posture rigid.

"Weasley, Ginevra."

Not a moment later..."GRYFFINDOR."

And so, Harry reflected bitterly, whatever strange obsession he had had was over and it was time for him to focus on more important things than strange feelings for stupid girls.

OoOoOo

Percy gave her a pompous handshake, Fred and George clapped her on the back and even Ron spared her a smile before returning to whatever he and his mates were discussing.

Yet for some reason, Ginny found she didn't feel near has happy, excited or light has she had thought she would. She just felt...numb, she was finally sitting at the Gryffindor table where she had always dreamed and yet, it was as if the dream had somehow morphed in little, subtle details she didn't understand and now the dream felt more like a nightmare and she wasn't even sure why.

People sat all around her at the welcoming feast but she didn't make much conversation. Most were much older than her and generally ignored her attempts to cut in and the younger ones had apparently already assigned her to be the class outcast.

Why she wasn't sure. She had always imagined, naively she supposed, that when she came to school she would be very popular. Maybe it was vain of her but she had always pictured that she would be the funny Quidditch star everyone liked and hopefully at least one or two boys thought was pretty. Now however she was already facing serious doubts that those petty fantasies would ever happen.

Here she was on her first day and the only friend she had made was...

She couldn't help but glance over at the Slytherin table, spotting his messy black head of hair lowered over a book.

_No,_ she thought firmly, a sense of betrayal rising up in her, she wasn't going to think about that. It made her feel so _stupid _when she did. She hated feeling that way, in fact she wrote to Tom for hours that night about the whole incident and how stupid it had made her feel to be fooled by him, how innocent he had seemed.

Tom of course, always the angel, had told her it was understandable and that in the future she would just have to more careful about who she gave her trust to.

OoOoOo

She watched him often in the hallways. Something which was an incredible feat with how scarce he was in them, sometimes she swore he must have had an invisibility cloak with how he seemed to pop up in places without ever having been seen going there.

He was quiet, and he mostly kept to himself. Ron wasn't wrong when he had said he was aloof, but she wasn't entirely sure that Ron was right when he had said it was because he believed himself superior just like the last Dark Lord had. She wasn't sure what she saw but whatever it was...it wasn't arrogance.

She was standing in the corridor waiting for Luna when she thought she saw him, but the flash of black hair was gone in an instant and she found herself scolding herself for feeling disappointed in not seeing the..._murderer._ Even in her thoughts it didn't sound true no matter how much she tried to make it. She couldn't reconcile the nice, kind, shy boy from the train with a cold blooded killer. Sometimes she wondered if everyone had the whole story wrong, it had to be some kind of misunderstanding?

She had told Tom as much but he'd pointed out all the evidence again in such a factual way that she simply felt like a fool for even suggesting Harry Potter could be innocent.

"Penny for your thoughts?" A dreamy voice floated through the air.

She turned, unsurprised to see Luna, the friend she had been thankful to keep. She had been worried at first that their separate houses would lead to them drifting apart, but in the two months they had been at school they had become closer than ever.

"What's a penny?" She asked curiously.

"Did you know that blubbering snarkackles have infested California," Luna replied instead, ignoring Ginny's question. Sometimes Ginny wondered what it was like in Luna's mind that she was able to string so many seemingly random thoughts together.

"Um—no...can't say I did." Ginny shook her head. When she had first met Luna she was ashamed to admit that she had thought Luna was certifiably insane and everyone was probably right to avoid her. Granted she had only been eight years old at the time, and it was later that month when Luna came and sat by her bed when she was sick for a whole week, that she had realized the true heart of gold beneath the crumpled horned snorcacks. Since then they'd never looked back in their friendship despite what anyone else said. And of course at Hogwarts, there was plenty to listen to about 'Looney Lovegood' and 'Raggedy Weaslette.'

But Luna it seemed never cared and Ginny was slowly learning not to let it show so much, how much she really cared about what people thought of her and how much the taunts stung. Tom of course knew everything and he was her sole confidant in how worthless the belittles often made her feel and how she wished she could be more like Luna who just never cared. Or even better, more like the universally admired Cho Chang, even if she did personally dislike the girl.

Tom _always _understood.

"Daddy is running another article on Fudge and the Goblins," Luna shared, drawing Ginny back to the present and away from the thick ink and black book that she so often found her mind wandering to.

"Oh," she commented, Mr. Lovegood had run hundreds of such articles but no one save the crazy witch in Kent ever believed them.

They walked to Transfiguration, their steps purposeful but not the frantic hurrying pace they had had in their first month. Or at least Ginny had had, Luna had never worried about being on time but always managed to make it anyways while Ginny desperately scrambled from Gryffindor tower and had still had two tardies.

She reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear that had fallen out of her pony tail, brushing it off her shoulder and adjusting her book bag.

"Did you finish your essay for potions?" She asked Luna.

Luna nodded, "Oh yes, I explained that gnome salivia would likely make a draught of wisdom such as the potioneer Rothbert Loughlinkin has been trying to do in Slovakia, and that more people should support his efforts."

Ginny gave her a quizzical look, "The essay was over the ten most common magical plants in great Britain and their uses in potions."

"I know, I just thought Professor Snape might appreciate the other more, it must get dreadfully boring reading an essay about the same topic..."

Ginny turned to hide her smile, she wasn't so certain Professor Snape would appreciate it, but she always admired Luna's unabashed quirkiness in matters like that. Ginny didn't understand how she wasn't a Gryffindor, she had always thought Luna was far braver than she was.

"Weasley, Lovegood," McGonagall greeted curtly has they entered. They nodded back to her before finding their usual seats in the back corner.

"Today we will be continuing our work..." Ginny drifted off slightly, doodling on her notebook. She found it hard often to concentrate in class, especially when the teacher lectured over the _same _material they'd already assigned for reading.

She wondered if she could write to Tom...it would after-all just look as if she was taking notes. She was beginning to slip her hand into her bag to pull out the diary when the class door opened and everyone but Luna turned to look.

She let it drop back in the bag and swiveled around herself in her chair to see. Standing at the doorway was none other than Harry Potter, who blushingly was looking very surprised by the full class of people inside.

McGonagall, if surprised did not show it. "Mr. Potter, I assume my owl must have missed you. But I unfortunately had an error in scheduling and was forced to move our appointment back to after fourth trek. As you can see I am currently otherwise occupied." She said, her voice very brisk, but Ginny sensed something different in her tone even though the professor tried to hide it .

"Oh...sorry Professor. I—I'll see you then." He said, turning away and leaving as quickly as he had entered. Mutterings broke out as soon as he did.

"Quiet—one delay does not mean that this class can loose it's discipline." McGonagall reminded them sharply, turning back to her board.

As her lecture began again Ginny let her attention wander, the heightened sense of something she couldn't name, that she had felt at seeing Harry, left her very quickly.

She had accidently called him Harry once when talking to Ron, the lecture afterwards had been ridiculously long. She wasn't sure why she had, it had just slipped out and it just continued to do so in her thoughts. She just couldn't bring herself to label him _'Potter,' _in her mind and she wasn't sure why.

It was amazing how one train ride conversation had left her more confused than she ever had been in her entire life the couple of months she had been at school.

She pulled out her diary, glancing around warily has she did so. She had become so paranoid since she started writing to Tom, but really she just didn't want anyone to take him away from her. And she was sure they would try if they knew about him.

She spent the next hour of the lesson listening to him instead of McGonagall.

A week later she was in the library trying to finish the terrible essay Snape had assigned them in potions before the Halloween feast. She didn't hate the professor like everyone else in her family seemed to, but she didn't much care for his constant essay assignment. It seemed they had one every two days and after a while it simply grew exhausting.

She paused, letting the ink seep in and create a dark spot where she rested her quill. She just couldn't think of anything more to write, which baffled her because she _was _very talented at potions and knew the subject well for her year.

She had just read the chapter on the effects of Gurdy Root, why couldn't she remember it?

She felt so drowsy but it was only four in the afternoon, she had gotten plenty of sleep last night. Hadn't she?

A headache was starting to develop too, it hurt terribly, nothing like any of the other ones she had ever had.

Deciding the essay was a waste of time Ginny stood and began to leave, trying to gather her things but finding her arms curiously clumsy.

She knocked down her text book and was bending to pick it up when she felt a pain so sharp it made her cry out, clutching at her face.

It felt like something was trying to rip her mind apart.

She began to stumble out of the library, forgetting her things in her desperate desire to simply leave the place.

She had almost made it to the door when everything went black.

**Please Review **


	10. Dusty Old Passages and Petrified Cats

**Chapter Ten—Dusty Passages and Petrified Cats **

It felt like someone had driven a stake through her skull. She sat up, laying back down immediately as dark spots clouded her vision and her head spun. Pressing both hands to her forehead, Ginny closed her eyes gritting her teeth to keep from groaning. After a few minutes the dizziness receded and she sat up again, opening her eyes and looking around.

She was in her dorm room. She felt confused, although she wasn't sure why. It was a perfectly normal thing for her after-all to be in her dorm room. So why did she feel like she was missing something?

Her book bag was in the chair by her bed, the homework completed and the work stacked and ordered far more neatly than she could ever remember placing something.

She looked at her watch, it was almost time for breakfast. She looked down at her pajamas and tried to remember changing into them. She couldn't.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, pushing back the crimson comforter and placed her head in her hands with her elbows propped up on her knees. She tried to think about her homework. When had she done it? Had she been to the library?

She tried to remember what work had been assigned, but yesterday seemed like a blur. She could remember a few moments sharply, but everything else just seemed to blur around them, and those moments she recalled were meaningless. Just idle seconds throughout the day that had no real consequence.

Shaking her head she walked into the bathroom. The skin on her hands felt a little tender, as if it had been scrubbed raw the night before. She frowned, glancing down at them and looked up in the mirror at herself. The same brown eyes, light skin and far too red hair greeted her like it always had.

She scrutinized herself closer in the mirror, almost certain there was something, some irrevocable difference from yesterday that she was missing.

Frowning at herself even deeper for being so silly, Ginny shook her head, and turning away from the mirror bent down to grab her toiletry bag. She never noticed that her reflection in the mirror stared back at as if she had never moved at all, the frown being replaced by a cold look of indifference.

OoOoOo

Ginny walked down to the Great Hall in a daze and sat down, piling some breakfast onto a plate.

"Why are you wearing your uniform?"

A loud, somewhat bossy voice interrupted her breakfast. She glanced up to see Hermione Granger, a Ravenclaw and the bane of most people in the school. (A/N I don't normally put the notes in a story but before any one over reacts, I do like Hermione, she will be important. Right now though she is her annoying, over the top with the rules self. Don't worry though, she develops and learns to relax a bit like in cannon)

"Um—"

"It's Saturday you know, and students do not wear uniforms on the weekends." She informed her before marching off to her own table, apparently only having taken the detour to inform Ginny of her transgression.

The girls sitting a little ways down from Ginny started giggling, and Ginny blushed deeply and looked away. She hated being laughed at. The twins always managed to make people laugh _with _them, even when they were in the most ridiculous situations imaginable. She had never wished for that ability so desperately as she did that moment.

Rushing out of the hall she failed to notice that no one was actually paying attention to her, they seemed to be pre-occupied entirely with something else, and were fervently discussing the events of last night.

She pushed her breakfast away, having lost her appetite. She blushed as she left the hall, convinced everyone had noticed how stupid she had been and were probably all laughing about it right then.

Of course it was Saturday, how had she thought otherwise? She chastised herself. Her head thought had been so fuzzy all morning it had been hard for to even dress, much less remember the what day it was.

Rushing back to the dorm and trying to avoid everyone on the way there, she took some unusual passages she had discovered that actually took far longer to reach the common room. She didn't care thought, she couldn't bear the shame of letting another person see that she couldn't even keep the weekdays straight.

Besides, she just wanted to walk for a while. Luna was off visiting her father and as such Ginny was all alone for the weekend, returning to the common room meant confronting her lack of friends or plans as she tried to figure out what to do. At least while she was walking she had some kind of purpose instead of sitting around pathetically alone.

Mind made she began the longest route she could imagine back to the tower, and the one she knew she would see no one on.

There was an old stair case in the school that ran from the top to the bottom floor. It was in a very narrow passage and poorly lit as the only light came from sparse, dark tinted windows that let in little light and nothing could be seen out of. There were spider webs and dust everywhere, she thought even the house-elves must have forgotten about it. Ginny had found it a few weeks ago and she didn't think even the twins knew about it. It wasn't anything special really as it was too far out of the way to use going from class to class, but it was perfect for she wanted that morning; to avoid everyone.

She didn't bother looking up as she trotted up the stairs. Focusing intently on her next step and lost in her own thoughts, she ran into someone coming down as she made her way up.

As she began to fall back from the impact she panicked and clutched at arm that was reaching out to try to stop her fall. Whoever it was their strength wasn't enough to pull her back and they both went tumbling down the stairs. Her heart jammed in her throat as she thought of falling all the way back to the first floor occurred to her.

The next second later however she hit the wall hard as the stair case curved, but it was enough to stop her fall. Wincing and tenderly touching her head where it had slammed against the wall, Ginny untwisted herself from the awkward position she had landed in and sat up. Blinking rapidly she tried to make sense of what had happened, the whole thing had been so sudden that she still wasn't sure what it was. And for the second time that day she had a blinding headache, although this one was far less severe than the first and seemed to be receding already to just a dull throb.

She turned her head and saw that her companion was sitting up as well, with the narrowness of the passage he set only a tiny space apart from where she did.

His head was in his hands has he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck which she was sure hurt from his own collision with the wall.

In a split second who her companion was came crashing down on her and the situation went from being dreamily and foggy with her distantly assessing it to her being hyper aware of everything and yet entirely uncertain of how to proceed.

For although she couldn't see his face she knew who the messy head of hair beside her belonged to.

He turned to her slowly, reluctantly as if bracing himself for something terrible. There was something about his whole posture that screamed exhaustion, as if he had lived a hundred years in one night.

"Yes?" He asked, as he met her eyes. His voice was different, he was different from the boy just a couple months ago on the train. It was rougher and more bitter, the shyness had been lost but yet the insecurity was still there although less raw and uncovered then it had been.

She blushed and looked down, realizing how hard and long she had been staring during her observations.

"Are you alright?" She blurted out, partly because she was concerned, and partly because she just didn't know what else to say.

She peeked over at him from behind the curtain of hair that had fallen off her shoulder and was now shielding her face.

He frowned and looked away, as if debating whether to respond. There were dark marks under his eyes and his clothes were wrinkled. She noticed then that he was in his uniform as well.

"It's Saturday you know," she blurted out again, hating the silence.

He looked at her quizzically. "Most students don't wear uniforms on Saturdays," she added hastily. Immediately she wanted to kick herself, since when did she start quoting Hermione Granger?

He stared at her for a second longer before replying in a nonchalant tone she had never heard from him before, "Touche."

She looked down at her own uniform, blushing again.

She brought her knees closer to herself and wrapped her arms around them. She wasn't sure what to do, she didn't want to get up though. She didn't want to go back to the common room. And even though she didn't understand why, she knew she didn't want to leave Harry.

She noted with relief that although he seemed as uncomfortable as she was, he wasn't trying to get up and leave either.

"You look..." Ginny trailed off, beginning to say 'like hell,' but sure that was too rude. It was something her mother would never condone at least. Then again her mother would never condone her sitting there next to Harry Potter like he wasn't who he was.

He was still just sitting there, looking at her like she was crazy and it was beginning to make her feel that way.

"I'm surprised you're not running off," he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.

"I'm a Gryffindor," she protested, although it sounded weak to her own ears instead of the strong voice she had been trying for.

"And I'm a Slytherin." He stated, as if it were as simple as the sky being blue.

Ginny opened her mouth to speak but no words came out, she didn't know what to say.

He started to get up and leave, taking a quick stride up the stairs even though she was sure he had been walking down when they ran into each other.

Before she even realized what she was doing she had shot to her feet and grabbed his arm.

"Wait!" She yelled, more loudly than she had intended and with a lot more conviction than she had said anything lately.

He looked back at her and she found herself just staring again, unsure of what to say. Whatever had seemed to be guiding her had no left her to her completely conscious mind which was failing to give her anything to work with.

"I—I..." She began. Noticing her hand was still on his arm she pulled it away quickly, blushing and looking down.

He turned and began to walk away again but she jumped up the steps after him until she stood one in front of him blocking his way.

"Would you just hold still for a minute!" She shouted, flustered and irritated enough to forget her embarrassment.

"Why? I think you've made it clear—" He began sharply but she interrupted him angrily.

"What could I have made clear when you won't give me time to say anything!"

"It's more what you haven't said that's made it obvious enough!" He retorted back immediately.

"You never told me your name!"

"Why should it matter! You were fine before you knew—I—we talked on the train for—you didn't hate me until you got all these stupid ideas in your head!"

"I don't—"

She began to reply but he kept going. "The minute you found out...clearly how you..._what did I ever do to you?" _He said, looking angry and somehow wounded at the same time.

"You—you didn't—" She began uncertainly.

"Exactly." He cut in, the bitterness that didn't belong in such a young voice bleeding from his words.

Ginny to her embarrassment felt a tear leak out of the corner of her eye. She swiped away at it quickly hoping he hadn't noticed, but looking up she saw how uncomfortable he looked shuffling his feet and knew he had. A few more trailed down and she closed her eyes, wishing she could just sink into the floor.

"Hey now...don't...it's nothing, just—please don't cry." He pleaded. This only served to make her cry harder, and she knew it was irrational and she had no idea why she was having such a fit but she couldn't help it. It was has if all the stress, loneliness, rejection and every other bad emotion she had felt since coming to school was finally catching up to her. She hated crying, it made her feel weak.

"Look, I'll just go. I'm—" She knew he was about to say he was sorry, and she just couldn't bear to hear it. Not after how she had been. She didn't deserve his apology.

"I'm not crying." She interrupted, blinking her eyes and trying to gain back some composure.

He reeled back and did stare at her then like he really did think she was insane.

"I'm _not_ crying," she insisted again, seeing he was about to say something.

His mouth opened like he was about to speak but he didn't, he didn't bother to close it either as he looked up at her with scrunched eyebrows.

He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, but she saw a small quirk in his mouth almost like he had been going to smile but thought better of it.

He turned back toward her with an indecipherably blank face that told her nothing.

She bit her lip and the moment, which seemed somehow much longer than it actually was, was not near as awkward as she would have thought it would be with the two of them just looking at each other while a few tears still sat on her cheeks.

He turned around then and began to walk back down the stairs where he had been heading before the entire mess had happened.

She just watched him leave, feeling that she couldn't say anymore to him then and trying to would likely only ruin what had seemed to be an alright note to their encounter.

Turning back around and heading up the stairs, Ginny found herself calmer as she continued back to the tower. It was like all the emotions that had been festering under the surface had been poured out, at least for the moment.

OoOoOo

People were acting strange in the common room. She hadn't noticed earlier that day as the unexpected encounter with Harry—she had given up trying to make herself call him Potter—had been replaying in her head throughout the day. But now that it was almost dinner she was beginning to observe a bit more and notice the tightly gathered little groups throughout the room and how they seemed to huddle closer than usual, their conversations lower, and their eyes more suspicious.

She frowned, slowly flipping a page of her transfiguration text, which she was supposed to be reading but really was more using as a prop to allow her to watch people in the common room without them knowing that that was all she was doing. It felt awkward after-all just to sit there by herself with nothing, and she could only sit in her dorm or by the lake so long by herself before it became tiring, not to mention lonely.

"I heard they questioned him all night." A large, seventh year boy who's name she wasn't sure of said.

"The ministry or just Dumbledore though?" Ginny strained her ears, leaning towards the seventh year couple's discussion who were sitting a few feet away from her.

"I heard they sent aurors over and everything, and that lady—real high up, with the squatty face? My Mums pointed her out to me a couple times."

"Madam Umbridge you mean?" The girl, who Ginny assumed to be the girlfriend asked, her voice slightly disdainful.

"Yeah her," the boy replied back.

They were both quiet for a minute.

"I just don't see how they can let him off this time! I mean, first Quirrel and now...I know it's just a cat but what if he does it to a student next time?" The girl exclaimed, her voice rising into a worried pitch.

Ginny's blood ran cold and she remembered that morning, how Harry's clothes had been rumpled and he had looked horrible. It made sense then, he had been up all night, and by the sounds of it in the headmaster's office being served Veritaserum. She tried to feel angry, or betrayed that he had made her feel so guilty that morning over how she had treated him, but strangely, she just felt confused. She wasn't sure what to think.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you. You just stick with me from now on," the boy replied, an overwhelming amount of bravado in his voice.

"Oh Jared!" The girl squealed, giggling. Ginny rolled her eyes, and rose from the couch to make her way back to her dorm. She felt strangely flippant about the whole thing, although she was curious what exactly the details were. A cat? What had happened, and to what cat?

OoOoO

On her way to dinner an hour later Ginny was walking by herself, wishing more than ever that Luna was with her rather than off looking for whatever creature she and her father were after this time.

She wasn't being particularly observant when she noticed something on the wall out of the corner of her eye that made her stop and look.

She turned to see what it was and gasped. Sitting proudly on the wall, written in blood, thick script proclaimed, _The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the heir beware._

She was still staring at it with a blank mind when she noticed someone else come stand beside her. She turned her head slightly to see it was a boy, who she guessed could be no older than a second year, but who she knew wasn't a first year as she had never seen him before.

His dark hair was grown out slightly in a way she suspected he had thought made him look older or more sophisticated, however with such a boyish face she thought he was kidding himself with it. Nevertheless, she had to admit herself that he wasn't bad looking actually, not at all.

In the same breath she chastised herself for making such a quick assessment of his looks, did entering puberty mean that she now had to categorize every boy she met that way? She shook her head and banished those thoughts away.

He turned a little then too and noticed her studying him, which brought a smirk to his face that made her feel embarrassed and uncomfortable.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, waiting for him to speak, which after a moments hesitation he did.

"Michael Corner," He said simply, holding out a hand for her to shake. She reached over, feeling awkward about the greeting and wishing she could be a bit more cool and casual like the boy—Michael Corner apparently—was being.

"Gi—" She cleared her throat, annoyed at how high pitched her voice had began to come out, "—Ginny Weasley."

"Well nice to meet you, Gi—" he cleared his throat," "—Ginny Weasley." He still had the same smirk in place from since he had looked her way and it was starting to annoy her.

She smiled but couldn't quite muster up a real grin at his joke, she hadn't though it had been all that funny. Then again she often thought that growing up with Fred and George must have given her higher expectations for jokes.

"It's crazy isn't it," Corner stated, phrasing it like a question but not using the tone of one, he was staring at the wall again where the blood shone from the torch light.

"What is?" Ginny asked.

"How they keep letting him off," he replied, with an air that it should have been obvious.

Her heart starting beating a little faster as she read the words again. So is this it, what he had done, or at least what they thought he had done. She looked around but saw no cat, and then reminded herself that it was likely long gone.

_Chamber of Secrets..._the name was familiar, it was a story Charlie had told all of them as a prank before the twins first train ride. He had been trying to scare them all a little, but it was actually a real legend, if legends were real that is.

Her mind began to spin around the ramifications of what was on the wall and her heart sunk as she realized that Harry was indeed the perfect candidate to be the perpetrator.

"Can't have the boy who lived in Azkaban though like he deserves can we?" Michael asked sarcastically.

Ginny frowned. "But...they came and questioned him—doesn't that prove his innocence. I mean if he did it he would be forced to admit it with Veritaserum! No one can lie under that stuff. It's impossible that he did it. This whole thing is just some stupid prank I bet, just some Slytherins thought they'd be funny and—" Ginny wasn't sure when she had started talking so loudly or so quickly but soon she found the words gushing out of her mouth and her cheeks pink from her ranting.

"A prank?" Michael interrupted derisively. "Someone doesn't just perform extremely dark magic to petrify Filch's cat for a _prank_."

Ginny jerked her head around, looking at the message again. "Filch's cat was petrified?" She asked.

He widened his eyes at her, shaking his head, "Where have you been?"

She blushed looking away. "About," she muttered vaguely before turning away from the scene and continuing onto the great hall.

"You know the legend don't you?" He asked as he jogged to catch up to her. She glanced at him, surprised he was following her and continuing the conversation.

"Yeah," she replied quietly, still surprised to find herself with company.

"About the monster?" He persisted.

She frowned but nodded. "What do you think is down there?" He asked, looking towards the floor.

"Why do you think it would be _down _there anyways?" She asked.

"Little snakes always like the dungeons don't they?" He asked sardonically.

She looked back behind them where she could still make out the dark smudges on the wall where the threat was written, "Maybe."

"You're still not saying it was a prank are you?" He asked, with a heavily condescending note in his voice that annoyed her. She looked up to meet his eyes but found herself blushing and looking away when she did, something she cursed herself for. Since when did she have such little control over her own reactions?

"Pranks _can _get out of hand sometimes." She replied curtly, trying to retain some shred of dignity despite the blushing which just made her feel silly but seemed to be something she couldn't help. At least she hadn't giggled, she consoled herself.

"I don't think anyone ever petrified someone for a prank before."

"It was a cat," she defended although it sounded weak to her own ears.

He rolled his eyes, "Yes, clearly this was all just a little practical joke gone wrong and not the work of oh—let me think—the school murdered who disposed of a _professor _last year." His voice dripped with derision.

Ginny didn't reply but to her embarrassment felt her eyes stinging, quickly blinking and taking a deep breath she got a hold of herself. She _refused _to become some kind of weepy waterspout, and it seemed today she had been setting some kind of record for tearing up.

Corner didn't say anything more as they walked and when they entered the Great Hall he wondered off without so much as a goodbye, heading to the Ravenclaw table where he sat directly across from Cho Chang.

Feeling slightly offended at the departure Ginny made her way to her usual spot at the Gryffindor table and ate surrounded by people but very alone.

Across the hall she watched Harry eat while he read some abnormally thick book sitting beside his plate. He looked up as if sensing her eyes on him and for a moment the locked eyes across the hall in a way that Ginny was sure communicated something although what she couldn't figure out. A second later he had looked back and gone back to reading his book.

She pulled out her diary and began to write. The discoveries of the day swirled around her head so quickly she wasn't sure what to think anymore. Tom though, she was sure he would know what to make of it.

**Please Review**

A note to anyone reading my other HP stories;

I WILL be updating soon. All of them, including A Different Kind of Brother which I know I have taken far too long of a break from. Right now my life has been so hectic that I haven't had any kind of free time and what time I have had I've been so tired I couldn't remember my own name. I do however have several thousand words of the next chapter for ADKOB already written and am working on it, so don't worry, the story will be finished and in another two weeks my schedule will let up considerably and I intend to start updating all of my stories extremely regularly (probably a weekly basis, maybe even faster) including A Diff. Kind of Brother. Thank you for your patience and understanding.


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